


Houses Clegane, Mormont, Martell, and Bolton One-Shots

by meganlpie



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-09-20 15:04:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 31,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17024883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meganlpie/pseuds/meganlpie
Summary: One shots for Sandor, Gregor, Jorah, Oberyn, and Ramsay.Also posted on Tumblr(meganlpie) and Wattpad(MegLPie)





	1. A Daily Reminder (Jorah Mormont)

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously I do not own these characters. They belong to George R.R.Martin.

_"I promise I'll return to you."_ Those words echoed in your head every single day. Jorah's promise had so far been unfulfilled. You had not seen him in years and it killed you. Surely most women felt that way when they lose their loves, but you had a constant, daily reminder of your lost lover. A darling little girl with Jorah's reddish-blonde curls and sparkling blue eyes. Jorah's daughter.  

            You didn't expect to see Jorah again when you traveled with Jon to Dragonstone to meet with Daenerys Targaryen. You had come with Jon as part of his guard, leaving your daughter with Sansa in Winterfell. When your daughter had weaned, you had to find something to occupy your time and you found your niche in sword fighting. You worked as hard as any man and fought battles with them.

            "Be on your guard," Jon and Davos had warned you. You had nodded, knowing that nothing could shake your focus. You were wrong. You were standing with Jon, Davos, and Daenerys when Tyrion approached. "Someone is here to see you, Your Grace." Daenerys asked who. "Ser Jorah."

            You froze. "S-Ser Jorah? Ser Jorah Mormont?" you asked in a soft voice. It was the first time you'd really spoke in Daenerys' presence and she turned to you surprise. "You know Ser Jorah?" You nodded. "Yes, Your Grace. We know each other quite well." Daenerys smiled. "Wonderful. I am certain Ser Jorah will be happy to see you." You frowned slightly. You hoped that would be the case.

            Jorah didn't see you at first. His blue eyes went straight to Daenerys. "Ser Jorah, it's good to see you my friend." Jorah smiled at her and she hugged him. You hid behind Davos, unsure of what to do. Instead, you observed Jorah. He looked a little more mature than the last time you saw him. His reddish hair and signs of grey streaked in it and there were lines around his eyes that hadn't been there before. He still looked as attractive as you remembered.

            You were so engrossed in looking at Jorah, you didn't realize that the others had moved back toward the castle. "Y/N?" You blinked in surprise at Jorah's voice directed at you. "Is it really you?" he asked and you nodded. "It is...wonderful to see you, Jorah." He frowned a little. "Is that all you have to say to me?"

            "What would you have me say?" You heard Daenerys quietly suggest to the others that they should continue on and let the two of you talk. "It has been years, Jorah. I know you married another woman and then were exiled from Westeros. I never heard from you. Not one word. In all these years." You could hear your voice cracking.

            Jorah at least had the decency to look ashamed of his actions, or lack thereof. "The marriage was arranged, Y/N. I had no choice." You sniffled and you hated it. It had been so long since you cried over the man. "Yes well, apparently neither did my family when they disowned me after discovering I was pregnant." You stopped short and your eyes widened. You hadn't intended on telling him that.

            "P-Pregnant? You had a child? M-My child?" You nodded. You watched his expression change from one of shock to one of pure elation. "I have a child?" Again, you nodded and explained to him what had happened. "After my family disowned me, the Starks were kind enough to take me in. Lady Stark was a great help to me. Our daughter was born in Winterfell after you fled. The Starks helped us start a new life."

            Jorah didn't reply. He was too shocked. He had always wanted children and now he had one. One he had never seen before. It was bittersweet. Would his daughter want to meet him? Would you even let him near her? "Are you going to say something or stare at me with your mouth open like a fish?" Jorah shook his head. "Where is she?"

            "Winterfell. It is the safest place for her now." Jorah had yet to take his eyes off you, but he nodded. "Good. I-I would love to meet her, if you'll let me." You finally smiled a little at that. "You are her father, Jorah. If you really want to meet her, I won't stop you." With that, you turned to rejoin the others.

            Jorah's hand caught yours, stopping you in your tracks. "I know it doesn't mean much, but I'm sorry. I hope one day you can forgive me." You looked back at him. "Jorah, I forgave you a long time ago. I see so much of you in our daughter. Your hair, your eyes, your gentleness and strength. She is the best parts of you and a daily reminder of the man I fell in love with." You turned to face him fully.

            "I had hoped that my love for you would lessen over the years and that, perhaps, if and when I saw you again, it would hurt a little less. If anything, I love you more now than I did before," you admitted in a hushed tone. You knew he'd still hear you. You glanced down at your feet, but only for a moment, Then. Jorah's hand cupped your chin and lifted your face so he could look into your eyes again.

            "My feelings for you never changed, Y/N. I tried to find love elsewhere, but never succeeded. When this is over, I would love nothing more than to return to your home with you and be a family." Your smile grew. "If we survive this, I wouldn't have it any other way." Jorah chuckled softly before he brought his lips closer to yours. He hovered for a moment, giving you a chance to back away. When you didn't, he kissed you. It was every bit as sweet as you remembered.


	2. Calming the Beast (Gregor Clegane)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader is the only one brave enough to try and calm Gregor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> None really

They say there is a way to soothe even the most savage of beasts. But, when talking about Ser Gregor Clegane, there seemed to be no way of calming the rage. Until he met you. There was something about your presence that made the people around you much more tranquil including the Mountain. You were the only one of your siblings that did not seem to have the famous Stark temper and it rubbed off on others. The entire city of King's Landing would soon realize it as well.

                You were sitting near your father and sisters at the joust when it happened. Gregor attacked Ser Loras, nearly taking his head off. Before he could do any real damage, Gregor's brother got in between the two knights, blocking Gregor's blow that would have almost definitely ended the life of the Knight of the Flowers. The two brothers fought with a determination you'd never seen before. Still, someone had to stop it. The king stood and bellowed for the two to stop. No one noticed you getting up and heading down to where the two men were.

                Gregor swung his sword around, stopping just short of taking your head off. You were so intent on stopping him, you did not notice that his blade cut your arm. He moved to stomp away, but one small sound stopped him. "Ser Gregor," was all you said, causing him to stop in his tracks. He glared at you before grunting and walking away a bit more slowly. You rolled your eyes and turned back to Sandor. Everyone's eyes were on you, but they were all holding their own conversations.

                "Yer bleedin'," Sandor told you as he stalked off. "Thank you," you muttered back, looking down at your arm to see the blood running down. You headed back to the Red Keep where you hoped to tend to your wound. You found a wash basin and attempted to wash the injury when you suddenly felt a hand on your shoulder, causing you to jump. You gazed up to find Gregor there. He still wore his usual scowl but it didn't look as though he wanted to kill you.

                Silently, Gregor took the cloth from your hand and washed your wound. No words were exchanged between you. You felt your heart pounding in your throat. You didn't want to say or do anything to set him off. You knew Gregor's temper was worse than anything you'd ever seen and you certainly didn't want to be on the receiving end of it.

                The giant man finished his task and you watched with curiosity and distrust at how careful he was being. Until he tied a bandage around your wound. He pulled it too tightly, causing you to wince. His face showed nothing. He simply shrugged and turned away. "Thank you!" you called before he was out of earshot. He stopped and gazed over his shoulder at you. Grunting, he gave you a quick nod and walked away.

                "Y/N!" you heard your father call. You looked at him with a smile. "Are you alright?" Once he made sure you were in fact fine, your father began to scold you. He told you how reckless and dangerous what you had done was. How The Mountain could have killed you with his bare hands if he'd had a mind to. You let what he was saying go in one ear and out the other. Your mind was clouded with thoughts of the man. "Maybe," you thought to yourself, "Just maybe, all he needs is a friend. Someone who can help him with that temper of his." You didn't realize how naive you were being until much later, after Gregor had killed Prince Oberyn Martell so violently.


	3. A Walk in the Garden (Sandor Clegane)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cersei tells the reader that Sandor watches her. Rather than being disgusted, the reader is flattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings other than fluff

Your whole life, people called you oblivious when it came to matters of the heart and the day you discovered Sandor Clegane loved you was no different. You hadn't even noticed the attention he'd been giving you. He spent a good bit of his time staring at you whenever you were in the same room. Still, you didn't notice. Someone else did. Actually, everyone else did. Joffrey and Cersei  certainly noticed and they made sure to tell you so.

                "Lady Y/N, come over here," Cersei called to you. You gave her a smile, not wanting to get on her bad side. You slowly walked over to where she and Joffrey were standing. Only then did you realize that Sandor wasn't there. "Yes, Your Grace?" you asked with a curtsy. Cersei smiled at you, but you could tell it was a false one. "How familiar are you with affairs of the heart?" Your brows furrowed. Why was she asking you? Blushing, you admitted, "Not very, Your Grace." She chuckled softly. "Perhaps that is why you have not noticed what the rest of us have."

                You cocked your head in confusion. "The Hound. He watches your every move, dove. It is quite pathetic really. It is obvious he is infatuated with you." You blinked rapidly at them."Is he?" They nodded. "I see. Thank you, Your Grace. Pray, excuse me." With another curtsy, you turned away leaving Cersei and Joffrey smirking behind you. They mistook your silence and looks of confusion as fear and discomfort. "We should send the Hound to watch over her," Cersei mused.

                "Do you truly believe this will work, Mother?" Joffrey asked and Cersei nodded. "Of course it will. Did you not see how frightened she was at the thought the Hound could be attracted to her? She will be begging to leave King's Landing and take that pompous father of hers with her." Cersei's face contorted into one of disgust and angry as she thought about your father. Yet another man trying to woo her for the power she held as Queen Regent.

                On cue, Sandor appeared around the corner. "Dog!" Sandor stopped walking, waiting for his orders silently as always. "Lady Y/N has just taken to the gardens. Go watch after her." Sandor grunted and left to follow you. "That should take care of it," Cersei muttered more to herself than anyone else.

                Sandor entered the gardens of the Keep, his brown eyes scanning the area for you form. He found you walking with a flower in your hand and a soft smile on your face. You weren't paying attention to your surroundings as Sandor approached you. He stepped up behind you just in time for you to trip over something. His arms automatically went out to wrap around your waist.

                "Oh!" The small cry left your lips before you realized that you weren't actually falling. Your eyes went wide as your turned your head to see Sandor standing over you, arms wrapped around you. "Ya should watch where yer goin', little dove." You felt yourself blush as you noticed just how close you were to the giant of a man. Clearing your throat, you stood straight up and said, "Thank you, Sandor. Y-You can let me go."

                You let out an awkward laugh as he blushed and dropped his arms. "What brings you out here?" you asked after a tense moment of silence between the two of you. "Joffrey order me ta come look after ya. Make sure ya weren't in trouble." You sighed. "I suppose it was a good thing then. Although I believe the only thing in danger was my dignity," you answered back. Sandor muttered a reply that sounded like, "And yer face," making you chuckle.

                "True." Sandor almost smiled at your carefree attitude toward your own clumsiness. "Would you care to walk with me, Sandor?" you asked him, your face still felt hot but you tried not to show how nervous you were. His brows drew together. You certainly weren't like most women in the Keep. They usually ran away from him or gave him looks of disgust.

                "I think ya oughta get ta yer room, little dove. It's gettin' late," he said. You nodded and let him escort you back inside the Keep. The air was thick with silence as the two of you walked. It worried Sandor a bit. You weren't the quiet type usually. "What's on yer mind?" he asked suddenly, surprising you both. You bit your lip, wondering how to put your thoughts into words. " 'S not like ya ta be so quiet."

                Taking a deep breath, you let him know what Cersei had told you. You refused to look at him, your embarrassment taking over. You were mortified when he continued to say nothing as the two of you walked toward your chambers. Finally, Sandor spoke again. "She wasn't lyin'. I do watch ya." Now it was his turn to feel humiliated. He felt like a stalker. "Why?"

                "Why not? Yer beautiful and different. Ya don't shirk away from me. Ya don't talk ta me like yer better than me. Ya treat me like person. A normal person. And yet, yer always willin' ta stand up fer yourself and others," he told you honestly. It was the closest he would come to telling you he loved you. You stopped walking. Sandor turned back to look at you. You were staring at him with wide eyes. "Were ya really that oblivious? Did ya really not noticed?" You shook your head, causing him to chuckle.

                Without thinking, you walked back over to him and leaned up to kiss his unscarred cheek. He stopped laughing as his own eyes gazed at you in disbelief. "Stare at me all you want, Sandor. I don't find it pathetic," you said with a grin before you began walking back to your chambers on your own. Sandor stood there in shock, his hand pressed to his cheek.


	4. Bandages (Sandor Clegane)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader, Robb's twin sister, had an accident and has to wear bandages on her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FLUFF! ALL THE FLUFF!

You stifled a sigh of frustration as you heard the royal carriage arriving. You were standing in between your sister, Sansa, and twin brother, Robb. Robb held your arm so you wouldn't lose your footing and you could practically feel the guilt radiating off of him. After all, he felt it was his fault you were in this position. He'd accidentally injured you, causing you to lose your sight. Maester Luwin was almost positive that it was temporary, but until you knew for sure, you wore bandages and Robb was your eyes.

                The sounds of the royal family drew closer and you automatically straightened, not wanting to embarrass your family further. "Ned! You got fat," you heard someone say and you assumed it was the king. Then, there was laughter. You felt the hair on the back of your neck standing up, as if someone was staring at you. You shook off the feeling as your father introduced your family to the king. "My eldest, Robb and his twin, Y/N." You did your best to curtsy without falling over. The rest of the time the royal family was in Winterfell, you did your best to avoid them. You succeeded for the most part, until your father decided that you and your sisters should accompany him to King's Landing.

                "Watch where you're going, stupid girl!" Joffrey's grating voice complained just after you ran into him. You frowned and felt tears pricking your eyes. Thankfully, he couldn't see that through the bandages. "Forgive me, my prince," you said, wanting nothing more than to whack the boy upside the head. Joffrey grunted and snapped, "Dog!" You heard the tell tale sound of armor shifting before Joffrey spoke again. "You stay with the girl and keep her from doing any more stupid things before we reach King's Landing." You heard him walk away and muttered, "What in Seven Hells does Sansa see in him?"

                "He's the prince," a voice rasped out, making you jump. You hadn't realized you weren't entirely alone. You'd never heard the voice before, but you assumed that it was Sandor Clegane by what Joffrey had called him. "As if that's an excuse," you said before you could stop yourself. To your surprise, Sandor chuckled lowly and you couldn't help but smile. Maybe the journey wouldn't be as bad as you thought.

                You spent the entire journey with Sandor and, over time, you got to know the man. He wasn't as bad as everyone said. Yes, he was a killer and there was no doubt about that, but never without reason and, deep down, he had a heart of gold. Even when he rode down Arya's friend, he did it to protect the boy from a worse fate dealt by Meryn Trant or Ilyn Payne. He came to your tent that evening to talk. You were the only one to ever truly listen to him.

                "If I hadn't, the boy woulda been tortured," he said, taking a sip of his wine. It killed him that he couldn't see the expression in your eyes and your mouth betrayed no emotion. "You did what you had to do, Sandor," you told him honestly. You felt him sit down in a chair next to you. He was amazed at you. You weren't disgusted by his actions. He was lost in thought when you asked him a surprising question.

                "Sandor, may I touch your face?" His brows furrowed. Why would anyone offer to touch him willingly? He was a monster and surely you'd heard the stories, even if you couldn't see his face. "Ya don't wanna do that." You scoffed and snorted out a laugh. You hated when people tried to tell you that you didn't know what you wanted. "I don't want to or you don't want me to? I've heard about your looks, Sandor, but I'd like to judge for myself. Unfortunately, touching is the only way right now for me to form an idea as to what you look like."

                Silence permeated the tent for several minutes. You were waiting for an answer, but Sandor wasn't sure what to say. No one had ever spoken to him that way before. So open and honest. You actually wanted to know what he looked like when most people shied away from him. He saw the little frown present on your lips and he couldn't help but wonder what your eyes looked like without your bandages.

                "Fine. If yer sure that's what ya want, but I want ta see those eyes of yers," he reasoned and your frown deepened temporarily. Your eyes were a sensitive subject for you, but perhaps taking the bandages off for a moment wouldn't hurt. So, you nodded, indicating that you agreed. "Just for a moment. I don't believe my sight has returned and I'd rather not risk losing it permanently." Sandor grunted in understanding before carefully moving closer to you.

                You felt Sandor's hands gently removing the bandages from around your eyes. There was part of you that hoped to have your sight back, but of course that wasn't the case. You sighed in defeat but Sandor was struck speechless. Your eyes were opened, but unfocused of course. That wasn't what got to him. It was the color. Unlike the rest of your siblings, who all had either Stark grey or Tully blue eyes, you had a nearly perfect mixture. Your eyes were the color of the sky after a storm. Grey and blue swirled together beautifully. Sandor had never seen such eyes and was a bit disappointed you couldn't see his reaction to them.

                After staring for what seemed like hours, Sandor wordlessly returned the bandages to your eyes. He wasn't sure how to put his feelings into words. "Yer turn," he said softly and you nodded. With shaking hands, you reached out to him. Your hands landed on his chest first and you could feel his heart pounding. Slowly, you inched your hands up to his shoulders, neck and finally his face.

                Your fingers found his bearded jaw and cheeks first. Your right hand felt the smoothness on the left side of his face while your left hand felt the craters on his right. Your brows came together as you felt the rough skin that had been burned so many years before. You weren't confused or frightened. You were distressed that he had been through so much without any compassion from others. After a moment, Sandor took your hands in his and removed them from his face. "I told ya."

                You heard him move to get up and you tightened your grip on his hands. "Please stay. Don't leave," you whispered. You couldn't stand the thought of being alone after such an intimate moment with him. He gently released your hands and brought his own up to cup your cheeks. "Why aren't ya scared?" You shrugged. "Because I know you, Sandor. If you wanted to hurt me, you would have. You are so much more than a frightening face." You couldn't see it, but for the first time in a long time, Sandor was smiling. He gently kissed your forehead and moved to your bed of furs. He gathered you in his arms and the two of you remained there for the rest of the night.

                The journey to King's Landing soon came to an end and you found yourself being lead into the Red Keep by Sandor. When you were in your chambers, you heard him moving around the room to light the candles. "Sandor, I haven't checked my sight today. Would you?" Sandor practically jumped at the chance to see those eyes again. Since that first night, he hadn't been able to get those stormy eyes from his mind. He carefully removed the bandages from your head and waited with bated breath.

                You blinked and nearly cried out in joy when things came into focus. You blinked a few more times and everything became clearer. "I can see," you whispered, feeling the tears pricking your eyes. You turned your head and, finally, you saw Sandor for the first time. You were taken back by just how handsome he really was, even with the scarred flesh. He watched as you took in his appearance and felt his confidence slipping. He muttered something about not being better looking and you scoffed lightly.

                "Sandor, you are the most handsome man I have ever laid eyes on." Before he could respond negatively, you reached up around his neck and pulled him down to kiss him. Acting on instinct, Sandor's hands found your waist and he returned the kiss, mustering up as much passion as he could. As you stood there in his arms, crashing your lips together over and over again, your bandages lay forgotten on the floor where Sandor dropped them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably one of my favorite Sandor one-shots that I've written.


	5. A Jealous Bear (Jorah Mormont)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jorah is jealous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jealousy and fluff

If there was one thing Jorah prided himself on, it was his ability to keep a level head in almost any circumstance. Except when it came to you. There was something about you that made all the gears in Jorah's head start spinning the opposite direction and, after a while, Jorah figured out that it was because he loved you.

            It surprised him. He had no right to love you. You were a princess and he was a disgraced knight. You deserved better. Still, it didn't stop him from being jealous when other men would stand a little to close or linger a little too long. He didn't blame them. You were beautiful, just as your sister was, but it still made his blood race. That was something he'd accidentally reveal when Daenerys decided to throw a party.

            As always, men were flocked around you and your sister, but it seemed worse this time. Perhaps it was Jorah's imagination getting the better of him or perhaps not. It didn't matter to Jorah. What mattered was that one man kept drawing closer and closer to you, looking at you like you were his next meal. Jorah didn't like it. Not one bit.

            Jealousy coursed through the knight's veins as he stalked toward the two of you. What he heard made him angrier than he had been in a long time. "Perhaps you would like to know what it's like to grace the bed of a lord. I would be happy to show you." The daring man placed a hand on your arm, only to have you pulled gently away by Jorah.

            "That is no way to speak to a lady, let alone a princess. You will maintain your distance, my lord. Unless you want to lose your hand." The young lord frowned. "And who are you to make threats, old man?" Jorah's glare hardened. "I am Princess Y/N's protector." You gave him a soft smile and patted his arm. "It is alright, Ser Jorah. I was just leaving." You turned and walked away, pulling Jorah with you. You lead him outside, one of your favorite places.

            Once you were alone, you looked at Jorah. "Thank you, Ser. I must admit that I'm a little bit...shy when it comes to standing up for myself." Jorah chuckled softly, but there was no real humor in it. "You have a good and gentle heart, Princess. There is nothing wrong with that, but that is why I am here. To stand up for you when you need me to." You thanked him again before glancing up at the stars.

            In the moonlight, you looked even more beautiful to Jorah. "I'm very glad you are here with us, Ser Jorah. Having you here makes the world feel a little less lonely. And knowing that you care enough to protect me from the smallest of threats warms my heart." A slight breeze blew a strand of hair in your face that Jorah automatically reached out to move. He thought better of it though and pulled his hand back.

            "I must admit that I have selfish reasons for what I did tonight, Princess," he muttered. You heard him anyway and turned your gaze away from the stars to meet his blue eyes. "Oh?" Jorah sighed and finally moved the hair from your face to tuck it behind your ear. "Yes. I didn't want that man near you. I don't want any man near you, Princess. Not in the way they want to be. I was," he paused as if it hurt him to say the word, "I was jealous."

            He waited for the reprimand. For you to yell at him for interfering in your life, but you didn't. Instead, you smiled softly at him. "Oh, Jorah. I know." His brows came together and you giggled. "You don't hide your emotions very well. At least not from me. I've known of your feelings for me for some time."

            "Yet you said nothing?" Jorah replied in surprise and you shook your head. "I would not do you the dishonor of bringing your feelings out in the open. They are yours to disclose, not mine." Jorah said nothing. You stepped closer and took his hands in yours. Jorah looked down at your joined hands and then back up at your face. You still wore the same soft smile.

            "If I am being honest, I didn't want any of those men close to me either. There's only one I want to be so near to me. Only one I wish to share my heart with." Jorah didn't seem to catch the hint, so you leaned in and kissed his cheek. When you pulled back, Jorah was staring. You could see him trying to fit the pieces of the puzzle together. Then his eyes lit up as it all clicked into place.

            He brought your hands up to his lips and kissed the backs of them. "I love you." HIs whispered admission settled in the air around you and filled you with warmth. "And I love you, Ser Jorah," you replied after a moment. Your (e/c) eyes met his blue ones again and you both smiled. Jorah slowly brought his face closer to yours until your lips met.


	6. Bending the Knee (Ramsay Bolton)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader takes back Winterfell from her husband, Ramsay.

You smirked from where you were seated. Your husband and goodfather were in for a surprise when they returned to Winterfell. The two had left some weeks ago to try and force the Northern houses to swear fealty. What they did not know was that, in their absence, you had taken back Winterfell in the name of your family, the Starks. After that, you had sent ravens to every Northern house informing them of the retaking of Winterfell and asking for their fealty, which most readily gave and the Stark Banner once again flew over Winterfell.

                To say Ramsay was angry would be an understatement. He was livid. As soon as he saw the direwolf banner, he marched into Winterfell. "What have you done?!" he screeched when he saw you sitting with your council. "I do believe I have taken back my home, Ramsay. Now, be a good boy, turn around and leave. Or else fight. You will not take Winterfell from my family again." With a growl and grimace, Ramsay replied, "This is far from over, darling wife." He stormed from the room.

                "He will fight to the very last man, my lady," the Maester told you and you nodded. "I am aware. However, I have honor. I will not deprive a man his chance to fight for what he thinks is his." You stood and left the room to prepare for battle. You vowed to fight alongside your men and fight you would. And you would win!

***time skip because I just can't bring myself to write a battle scene, sorry.***

                You were victorious and Ramsay now stood before you, bloodied, beaten and in chains. You smirked at him. Now he saw you as a threat, as an equal. "What are you going to do to me, Lady Bolton?" he asked you, that sickening smirk still on his face. "I refuse your name, Ramsay. I am Y/N Stark of Winterfell, as I shall remain for the rest of my days." Ramsay stopped talking then.

                He stared at you, awaiting his fate which you held in your hands. He did not wish to make you any angrier. You studied his face. In truth, you did feel something for Ramsay. He had been your husband after all for many moons now. Did you love him? You doubted it, but you weren't certain you wanted to kill him. Ramsay, on the other hand, knew the moment you bested him in battle that he loved you.

                You were a strong, dominate woman that took what she wanted. Now, he simply had to know whether you were going to kill him or not. You council leaned in to whisper something to you. You smiled slightly and nodded. "Ramsay Bolton, I've decided to be merciful and give you a choice. You either die or...you bend the knee. Swear fealty to me, to House Stark and I will let you live," you declared loudly for everyone in the room to hear.

                Ramsay stood silently for a moment, contemplating his options. Death or bend the knee? The choice seemed obvious. "I, Ramsay, of House Bolton swear fealty to Lady Y/N of House Stark. I vow to serve her house until the end of my days." You glanced at your council, who smiled proudly at you. "Very well, Lord Bolton. Now, you know the penalty if you should betray me or my house." Ramsay nodded. For the first time since his father legitimized him, Ramsay felt lost and alone. But he didn't care. Perhaps, just perhaps, now he could prove that he wasn't such a bad guy and that he was worthy of your love.


	7. Best Friends, Nothing More (Ramsay Bolton)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader is Ramsay's best friend...no matter how much she wished differently.

He was your best friend. Nothing more. At least that's what you tried to tell yourself. You and Ramsay had been friends for as long as you could remember,  but you wanted more. You had wanted it forever. But now, he was married to Sansa Stark. You hated it.

                No, you didn't hate Sansa. You hated that Ramsay was married to her. You had been ready to make your move and tell Ramsay how you felt when Lord Baelish had arrived with Sansa and the marriage took place. All your plans went up in smoke as you stood in the Godswood, watching the man you loved marry another.

                Most people would have thought you were insane, loving Ramsay, but they didn't know him the way you did. You knew him before he became the mad dog everyone else knew him as. You knew that, deep down, there was still some good in Ramsay and you held onto hope that he could be that person again. With help from the right person. You had hoped that would be you, but it wasn't. Then, one day, it happened.

                You were in your room when Stannis had marched on Winterfell. You waited there until you heard Ramsay's triumphant return. You knew he'd go to Sansa, to gloat about how Winterfell was still his. Then, and only then, would he come to you. You would be the one person he showed his vulnerable side to.

                Your door swung open a lot sooner than you thought it would. You jumped and turned to see Ramsay there. "My lady," he greeted. He was covered in blood and for a moment, you thought it was his. As if reading your mind, Ramsay chuckled. "It is not mine, Y/N. Now, have you seen Lady Sansa?" You shook your head. Ramsay's smirk turned into a frown. "Hmm. Guess I have to find her." He turned to leave.

                "Ramsay, wait!" He stopped and looked back at you. "Don't go. At least tell me about your victory before you run away." Ramsay chuckled and came over. He pressed a kiss to your forehead. "My dear, Y/N. Always so eager to spend time with the 'mad dog'." You rolled your eyes playfully. "Only because the so-called 'mad dog' is my best friend." Ramsay gave your shoulders a squeeze. "Forever. Now, let me go and fetch my wife. Then I will tell you together."

                You watched him go and sighed heavily. That one word sealed your fate as far as Ramsay was concerned. Forever. Forever his best friend. Nothing more. Sighing again, you sank down in your chair. You ran your brush through your hair, listening to sounds of people running around, probably looking for Sansa.

                A moment later, you heard Ramsay shouting from outside. Then, the sound of his dogs barking. You got up and looked out the window. In the distance, past the bodies strewn across the field, you could see two figured heading for the woods. Sansa and Theon. From the tone of Ramsay's voice, you knew he was furious. But you? You couldn't help the small smile that made its way to your lips. Sansa was gone and, if Ramsay couldn't bring her back, maybe you stood chance with him. Maybe he would finally become more than your best friend.


	8. Champion (Sandor Clegane)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandor stands in for the reader in her trial by combat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of violence!

In your head, you were cursing your younger brother for incurring Cersei's wrath. You knew he had good reason and that he was just doing what he thought was right for your family, but you were angry all the same. It didn't seem that Robb had thought about the repercussions for you, Sansa or Arya when he decided to act against the Lannisters and Baratheons. Because of that, you found yourself being dragged before Joffrey and his mother.

                "Y/N of House Stark, you stand accused of treason against His Grace, Joffrey Baratheon, first of his Name-" you cut off the septon. "I know the boy king's titles, thank you. As for the accusation of treason, you have already made up your minds. Let us be done with it." A smirk appeared on Cersei's face. "You wish to be executed like you father?" Your Stark grey eyes narrowed at her before a sly smile appeared on your face. "Of course not. However, I will not let my guilt or innocence be judged by you. I demand trial by combat, as is my right."

                "Smarter than her father...very well. As you say, it is your right. And who shall be your champion?" Your chin jutted out as you replied, "I chose my half-brother, Jon Snow." Jon was an excellent swordsman and you knew he could win for you. However, Cersei shook her head. "No. The trial shall be held tomorrow. We will not wait for Ned Stark's bastard to come from the Wall." You crossed your arms under your breasts and scowled briefly, making the smirk on Cersei's smug face deepen.

                "Ser , will you stand for your king?" Cersei asked a knight in the Kingsguard, surprising everyone. You all assumed she would request for the Mountain to be her champion. Then, it dawned on you that she wasn't taking you seriously. She believed one of two things. Either that no one would agree to be your champion, or whoever did, would lose quickly. That angered you to no end. You certainly weren't going down without a fight.

                You straightened to your full height and, without taking your eyes from Cersei, you spoke. In a loud and clear voice, you declared, "The Queen Regent has determined her champion. I ask one of you to stand up and be mine. Fight for me. The sister of Robb Stark, the King in the North." Your gaze never wavered as you waited for someone, anyone, to speak up. But you weren't prepared for who would volunteer. "I'll do it."

                Your eyes widened in surprise when you heard Sandor's voice. King Joffrey's sworn shield  had just agreed to be your champion in your trial. You couldn't help but chuckle at the irony. Silence permeated the room. No one else could believe it either. After a moment, Joffrey cleared his throat. The sound echoed through the room. "Very well. The trial shall take place tomorrow. Clegane, escort her to a cell." He rose from the throne and left quickly with Cersei right behind.

                The crowd moved out of the way as you and Sandor made to leave the room. When the doors closed behind you, you glanced up at him. "Why did you agree to fight for me?" Your voice was the softest it had been since you'd lost your father. It was so quiet, Sandor almost didn't hear you. "Ya stood up to Cersei Lannister. Ya deserve a fair trial and that was the only way ya were gonna get one." You nodded, a slight smile forming on your lips. "Thank you. Even if you fail, I shall praise your kindness and courage to the gods."  Sandor didn't respond and you didn't push it. You knew he needed to focus.

                The next day, after a sleepless night, you were escorted from your cell to where the trial by combat would take place. You couldn't stop yourself from biting your lip and wringing your hands in nervousness. If, for some reason,  Sandor was defeated, you would be next. You would join your father in death. If he was victorious, you would leave King's Landing and find Robb.

                You stood there with shackles on your hands and feet. You took a moment to pray that Sandor would win. While you kept a brave face, especially in front of Cersei, you were frightened. You didn't want to die. You were brought back to reality when you heard the sound of metal striking metal. The trial had begun. You could feel Cersei glaring at you the entire time, not even watching the duel between your champions. From where you stood, you could see the strain and fear on the knight's face. No one wanted to fight against the Hound. Sandor was moving gracefully as he swung his sword. He was in complete control of his movements, something that came with years of practice. You only hoped that practice paid off.

                The trial seemed to go on forever, but it was really only a few minutes before it was over. Sandor ran his sword through the knight whose name you couldn't remember. The knight fell to the ground in a pool of his own blood and Sandor knelt before Joffrey before he walked over to you. Joffrey stood slowly, rage painted on his face. It looked like he wanted nothing more than to kill you himself.

                However, Tywin Lannister placed a warning hand on his grandson's shoulder. Joffrey took a deep breath and said, "The gods have decreed that Y/N of House Stark is innocent of treason. She is free to go." The guards unlocked your chains and you grinned, rubbing your wrists. You sarcastically bowed to him and made your way to your old chambers. You were vaguely aware of Sandor's footsteps following you.

                You immediately began packing your belongings, ready to leave the city as quickly as possible. Sandor waited in your doorway. "Thank you," you told him. You stopped what you were doing to look at him. He shrugged. "Best hurry, girl. Ya don't want ta give them reason ta keep ya here." You nodded and went back to packing. "You should come with me." Sandor smirked and moved further into the room. Reaching behind the door, he produced a bag of his own. "I planned ta. Somebody's got ta keep an eye on ya."


	9. Lessons (Sandor Clegane)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandor teaches the reader to fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FLUFF!!! And some jealousy.

You grunted as you hit the ground. How in the Seven Hells had that happened? Your opponent was a practice dummy! "Yer balance is off," a raspy voice made you jump. You turned to see Sandor Clegane standing at the edge of the practice yard. You hadn't expected anyone to be outside the Keep. It was the middle of the night after all. You'd been coming out every night for a couple of weeks, trying to learn how to fight. With your nephew on the Iron Throne, you thought it would be for the best. 

                You stood up and brushed yourself off as Sandor got closer to you. Unlike most ladies, you didn't flinch away. Not only were you not afraid of him, but you were curious to see if he was going to help you or mock you. "My balance?" He gave a curt nod. "If yer not balanced, you'll fall every time. Yer opponent will be able ta get the better of ya." You cocked your head to the side, in hopes he would continue.

                Seeing the look on your face, Sandor sighed. Normally, he would have simply scoffed and walked away but, he believed you were being smart. Not many women knew how to fight and, in the cruel city of King's Landing, knowing how to defend yourself was blessing. If you wanted to learn how to fight with more than words and what was between your legs, then Sandor wasn't going to stop you.

                Slowly, Sandor handed you your practice sword. He hesitantly placed his hand on your arms, showing you how to properly hold the sword, so your arms wouldn't pop out of socket and your wrist wouldn't break when you attacked or blocked. Using his feet, he gently pushed on yours until your stance was right. You could tell he was a little nervous about being so close and having his hands on you. You could feel how tense he was, trying so hard not to hurt you.

                After you were positioned properly, Sandor backed away. "Now, show me how ya do it." Taking a deep breath, you thrust at the dummy. You knew it looked clumsy and weak and you half expected Sandor to laugh. He didn't. "Ya need ta put more power behind yer attacks." He got close again, showing how to use every muscle in your body when wielding the sword. It was dawn before the two of you finally left the practice yard.

                "Thank you, Sandor. Perhaps we could continue these lessons?" you asked as he escorted you back to the Keep. He grunted in response, but didn't actually say anything. You shrugged and went to your chambers. You returned to the practice yard the next night, surprised to see Sandor waiting for you. You gave him a smile and got to work.

                The two of you practiced in secret for months, each night bringing you closer together than the night before. Before you even realized what was happening, you had fallen in love Sandor. During your lessons, you were able to look behind the mask of the cruel, brutal killer and find the honest man with a heart of gold. You saw the man he could be. You hadn't realized that he fell in love with you as well. He fell in love with the woman under the perfect lady, the king's aunt. The one who was willing to better herself. To protect herself and others. Nothing was said about it between you though. Not until the feast of your goodsister's nameday.

                You walked into the crowded room by yourself, your eyes scanning the room for the person you wanted most to see. You weren't a fan of large celebrations and you knew Sandor wasn't either. So, you sought him out, hoping to spend the evening talking to him. You finally found him and smiled. Before you could make your way over to him, a young lord stepped into your path. "Lady Y/N, may I have this dance?" You felt Cersei's intense gaze on you and knew you had no choice but to agree.

                Dance after dance with different lords and knights had you bored to tears. Finally, your eyes met Sandor's. His were blazing with fury and jealousy. With your eyes, you were pleading with him to save you. He drew himself up to his full height and made his way over to where you were in the arms of yet another knight. You smirked when Sandor cast a shadow over the knight in question. His eyes went wide as he turned to see Sandor standing there.

                "Go," was all Sandor said, causing the knight to remove his hands and back away. You get see him practically soil himself as he ran as far from Sandor as he could get. You chuckled before looking back up at your savior. "Will you dance with me, Sandor?" He looked uncomfortable for a minute, but feeling your hand on his arm gave him courage. He wrapped his arm around you and began moving to the music.

                Years of using a sword had taught Sandor a grace you didn't think was possible for a man so large. Still, your dancing was less than graceful since you were so much smaller than he was. Sandor noticed this and gently lifted you. His arm was still wrapped around your lower back as he held you up. You couldn't help but giggle as he lifted you up so you were face to face with him. You even swore you saw the hint of a smile grace his lips. Before you could even think about what you were doing, you pressed your lips to his.

                Sandor froze, nearly dropping you. It took him a moment to register what was happening. Then, without disconnecting your lips, he swung your legs up so he could hold you bridal style. Neither of you noticed or cared that the room had gone quiet. Everyone at the feast was looking on in surprise. No one could believe that the two of you were kissing, you in Sandor's arms and your arms wrapped around his neck.

                You separated from Sandor, out of breath. You could feel you lips already swelling from the kiss. You opened your eyes to find him looking at you, his pupils blown wide. Only then did you realize you were being watched. Your face heated up and Sandor set you back down on your feet. Not saying a word, you took him by the hand and lead him from the room, ignoring the whispering that immediately started.

                Once in the corridor, you turned back to him. Not even a second passed before you were back in his arms and his lips crashed into yours again. A moment later, you felt your back being pressed against the cool stone of the wall. Having you pinned against the wall, Sandor could now move his hands to your hips and kiss you with fervor since he wasn't as focused on holding you. This time when you parted, you were panting heavily. "We should take this somewhere more private," you whispered once you caught your breath. He gave you a genuine smile, letting you down again. You gazed up at him. "I love you, Sandor." He cleared his throat and replied quietly, "I love ya, too."


	10. Lord Stark's Guard (Sandor Clegane)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader disguises herself as a handmaiden. Sandor finds out otherwise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff, but mentions of injuries.

You scanned your surroundings as you approached the city of King's Landing, eyes peeled for any threat to you or your lord. You were Lord Eddard Stark's guard, but no one outside of the lord's traveling company knew that. You dressed as a handmaiden and kept to yourself unless you were needed. You did your job and you were good at it. However, for all your surveying, you failed to notice the pair of eyes that kept wandering to you.

                Sandor Clegane knew there was something different about you but he couldn't place it. You looked just like any other handmaiden he'd ever seen. True, you appeared to be more observant than most, but still you were just another woman. Weren't you? Sandor wasn't so sure and he had good instincts most of the time.

                It wasn't until you actually made it to King's Landing that Sandor figured out exactly what was different about you. He was taking a much needed break from following Joffrey around and made his way to the practice yard. When he got there, he saw two people already in the middle of a match. One of them was Jory Cassel. The other was you. Sandor stopped walking, choosing to watch from a distance.

                You moved with a practiced grace, as if you'd been holding a sword your whole life. You knew to watch your opponents entire body language and their eyes, not just their feet or arms. You were able to block most of Jory's attacks. The match lasted long. Much longer than Sandor thought. You were actually very good. You knocked Jory's practice sword to the dirt and the man surrendered. "I concede, Y/N. You have surpassed my teaching." You grinned and hugged him.

                Sandor decided to move closer so he could talk to you. "You're not a handmaiden, are ya?" You blinked in shock. Sandor had never said two words to you before. "Um...no I am not. I am one of Lord Stark's guards." Jory smiled and gave you a gentle pat on the shoulder. "Until tomorrow." He turned and walked away, leaving you and Sandor mostly alone. Jory didn't go far. He wanted to keep you safe. Sandor picked up a practice blade and looked at you in question. You nodded and raised your own wooden sword.

                If Sandor had been impressed with your skills by watching you, he was even more so now while he was fighting you. You lasted longer against him than many of the gold cloaks. Still, Sandor was a big man with a lot of stamina and you eventually ran out of steam. With one final blow, you fell to your back in the dirt. Sandor lowered his blade and offered you his hand. Grinning widely, you took it and let him help you up.

                You dusted yourself off and thanked him for the match. "Why do ya pretend to be somethin' you're not?" he asked suddenly. "It was Lord Stark's idea. If I look unassuming, people will underestimate me. They won't be expecting a handmaiden to be able to wield a sword and actually know how to use it properly. It gives me an advantage." Sandor nodded. "He's a smart man."

                You looked up at Sandor. "Thank you for the match, Clegane. I rather enjoyed an even fight. Perhaps we could do it again? I am certain I could learn a lot from you." Sandor was taken aback. You were considering spending more time with him. No one did that. Most people were too afraid of him. "Yeah," was all he said and you laughed. "Wonderful! I look forward to it!" With that, you skipped off leaving Sandor behind.

                The two of you trained together even few days for several months. When you sparred with Sandor, one of you always managed to strike up conversation somehow. You got to know the gruff man and he got to know you. There was something about him that you were attracted to and you couldn't deny it. However, you were certain he saw you only as a sparring partner that could keep up with him. Until one day.

                After some time, the two of you decided to forgo the practice blades and use your real swords instead. You had formed a trust and knew Sandor wouldn't intentionally harm you. So, you fought with him. Toward the end of the match, you felt something cut your arm. You'd hadn't been fast enough to parry Sandor's blow and the blade sliced your arm. You gave a little cry but continued on until the blood began to seep through the sleeve of your dress. Sandor stopped.

                He didn't apologize and you didn't expect him to. You had known the risks. Instead, he sheathed his sword and gently took your uninjured arm. He lead you back inside the Keep to a set of chambers you'd never been in before. Without speaking, he made you sit in a chair while he busied himself at the washbasin.

                Sandor came back over to you and glanced down at the sleeve of your gown in question. You nodded before ripping the sleeve so he could get to the wound. Crouching down, he went to work washing it while you watched his face. His heavy brow was furrowed in concentration and his hair was sticking to the scarred side of his face, which was closest to you. Using your free hand, you reached up and moved his hair before running your fingers across the scarred flesh.

                Sandor instantly froze and you nearly jerked your hand back. He stopped you by taking your hand in his. His gaze rose to meet yours. "What are ya doin'?" You shrugged slightly and answered, "I wanted to touch your face." Sandor grunted and returned his attention to your wound. He hadn't said he didn't like it so you resumed the action, not missing the deep red blush that was covering the back of his neck.

                Even when Sandor was finished cleaning your cut, you stayed that way. He remained crouched in front of you, his gaze on your arm while your fingers ran over his face. The intimacy of the act didn't go unnoticed by either of you. Eventually, Sandor caught your hand in his again. "I need ta stitch your wound or we'll risk infection. I can't if you're distractin' me." You dropped your hand and let Sandor go about his work. When he was finally finished, he moved to stand.

                Before he could, you cupped his face with your hand, once more allowing the smooth skin of your palm touch the rough skin of his cheek. As you gazed into his eyes, nothing was said. There were no words that could describe what either one of you were feeling. So, neither of you spoke. You just sat there, looking into his eyes as he looked back into yours.


	11. Flower (Oberyn Martell)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader wakes up after a night with Oberyn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just fluff. Pure, unadulterated fluff

The bright light of the Dornish sun woke you. You tried to move but a weight across your stomach stopped you. A smile made its way to your lips as memories of the night before flashed through your mind. You peeled your eyes open before turning your head to find Oberyn's deep brown eyes already watching you. "Good morning," you greeted him, the soft grin still on your face.

                "And to you, flower." You flushed at the endearment. You turned on your side, facing him and snuggled further into him. The two of you had been close for years and, after flirting for so long, you finally admitted your attraction to one another which had lead to your long and passionate night. "Must we get up?" you asked after stifling a yawn. Oberyn chuckled and replied, "Do you wish to stay abed all day, Y/N?" You nodded and he pulled you closer to him.

                You let out a content sigh and gazed back into those eyes you'd come to love. "Why do you call me 'flower', Oberyn?" you asked suddenly. Oberyn pondered for a moment before answering you. "I call you flower because you are as beautiful as a lily, as dangerous as a rose's thorn and you smell as lovely as a tulip." He kissed the tip of your nose and then moved to bury his face in the crook of your neck.

                You giggled and tried to scoot away, but Oberyn's strong arms held you in place. "Stay, my flower," he whispered. You sighed again and wrapped your arms around him. He pressed his lips to yours over and over again. "Very well, my prince," you said, over dramatically. For a few moments, the two of you lay there in silence, just enjoying each other's company. Your limbs remained entangled with his and you studied his face in the morning sunlight.

                "Do you see something you like?" You laughed at him again, but nodded. "For years." He flashed you a wide smile. Oberyn knew he was handsome and desirable, but hearing you say it made him beam. His eyes roamed the curves of your body before returning to your face. Your eyes were closed yet again. Oberyn chuckled slowly to himself before kissing your cheek and pulling you even closer, if that was possible. Yes, he had duties to attend to, but for the moment Oberyn didn't care. He was content to just lie there with his arms wrapped around you. His flower. 


	12. Frightened (Oberyn Martell)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oberyn's daughter has her first love, but is scared to tell her father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Father/daughter fluff

You had a small smile on your face as you made your way back to the palace. "There you are, Y/N! We have training," Obara barked at you. You looked up at her and saw the smile on her face as well. You couldn't deny that you were the favorite among your sisters. You had the beauty of a lady and the kindness and charm of your father Oberyn. All of your sisters adored you and your energetic personality. You were always ready for just about anything. Just about.

            What you weren't ready for was your heart betraying you. You hadn't expected to have your first love affair already but that was the way of the Dornish. You were part of a passionate people. Love was won and lost often. But you were young yet. Still, you couldn't deny the way your heart pounded when you around your newly found lover.

            You had tried to hide it at first since you weren't sure how your family would react. Now it seemed everyone knew. Everyone except your father. And you weren't ready to tell him yet. Your father was an adoring man and very protective of you and your sisters. You were frightened about what he would say if he learned that you had your first lover. You didn't think your sisters would blab.

            After training, you got yourself cleaned up and ready to relax for the rest of your day. Your axe sat in the corner of your room, polished to a shine and ready for more training the next day. You sighed happily as your mind began to wander to your lover. You wondered if they felt the same for you as you did for them.

            Your thoughts were interrupted by a knock at your door. You bid the person come in and you were surprised when your father walked in. He didn't look pleased. "Is there something you want to tell me, Y/N?" You looked up into his dark eyes  in confusion. "What do you mean, Papa?" He stepped fully into the room and crossed his arms over his chest. "You wouldn't lie to your Papa, would you?" The longer he spoke, the more playful his countenance became. It had always been your game to answer one another with questions. "Who are they?" he asked suddenly.

            Then you understood. Someone had told him about your lover. That was the only explanation. "Who told you?" you whispered, feeling like a little girl again. Oberyn could see the distress in your posture and he smiled. He came over and sat next to you on your bed. "Y/N, it's alright. I'm not angry." You sniffled a little. "You aren't?" His smile widened. "Of course not! How could I be angry with my daughter who has found her first love? I'm just curious as to why you didn't tell me?"

            You shrugged. "I know how protective you are. I wasn't certain how you would react." Oberyn wrapped an arm around your shoulder and gave you a squeeze. "Of course I am protective. I know you can protect yourself, but you are my child and it's my job to take care of you." He kissed your temple and stood. He turned and offered you a hand. "Now, grab your axe and come with me. I want to hear all about this young man or woman while we spar."  With a grin, you got up and followed your father outside.

            While you sparred, you talked. These were your favorite times with your father. Just the two of you sparring together and sharing conversations. You had your best conversations with Oberyn during these times. Unlike a lot of fathers that you heard about, Oberyn was attentive and actually cared about what his daughters were going through. He had been there for every milestone in your life, even the more embarrassing ones. He took everything in stride and helped as best he could.

            "So, you feel deeply for this person?" You nodded at his question as you wiped the sweat off your brow. "Do they feel the same for you?" You gave a shrug. "I'm not sure. I hope so. It would break my heart if they didn't." Oberyn chuckled softly. "And are you happy?" You told him in no uncertain terms that you were. "Then you have my blessing, my daughter. And my joy."

            You turned fully toward him and hugged him tightly. "Thank you, Papa." He returned your hug. You found yourself extremely grateful that you had such an understanding and loving father. "Now, I think it's time for a little lunch. Just us. Unless you want to invite your sisters?" You grinned. "I'd like that." Oberyn slid an arm around your shoulder and  escorted you back inside the palace. "My daughter in love. You've made my heart happy."


	13. Love in Unexpected Places (Sandor Clegane)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandor finds love where he least expects it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst, fluff, mentions of the Red Wedding.

Why in all of Westeros did you have to fall for him? That wasn't your father's intention when he chose to bring you to King's Landing with him and you younger sisters. Your father had intended to find a young lord or another highborn man to marry you off to, not him. Not Sandor Clegane. The rough around the edges killer had caught your attention in a big way and you had caught his.

                All the journey to King's Landing, you rode with Sandor and had gotten close to him. Before you realized it, you had fallen in love with him and he with you, although he'd never admit it out loud to anyone but you. You never said anything to anyone either, knowing your father wouldn't have approved when he was alive. So, your feelings for each other had to be kept secret, even after your father's death. Meetings in empty corridors or in each other's chambers late at night made up your relationship, but you didn't mind. All that mattered was that the two of you were together.

                You felt two arms wrap around you and you giggled softly. You turned and looked up at Sandor. With everyone else, he was the gruff and brutal man but with you, he was nothing more than a giant teddy bear. He was always so careful not to hurt you. You stood up on tip-toe and pressed a kiss to his waiting lips. He tried to deepen it, but you backed away. "Perhaps we should take this to my chambers?" you whispered, earning an almost animalistic growl from the man.

                "My, my. The lady and the tramp," a soft voice caused you to pull back from Sandor with wide eyes. You both turned your heads, coming face to face with none other than Lord Petyr Baelish. "I highly doubt, Lady Y/N, the king would approve of this little secret. His loyal guard in a secret affair with a traitor's daughter." Without another word, Lord Baelish turned on his heel and left. Even though he hadn't said it, you recognized the threat.

                You looked back at Sandor. "What do we do?" you whispered. His arms tightened around you. "He wants somethin'. I don't want ta know what," he answered. He let his eyes drift down to your face. He could see the fear and worry etched in your expression. Sandor knew that if Littlefinger wanted something, he would do anything to get it, even hurting you and that was something Sandor wasn't going to stand for. He had to do something and quickly.

                "We need ta go," he rasped, catching you off guard. "Go? Go where?" Sandor didn't say anything. He simply took your hand and pulled you toward your chambers. If anyone passing asked, he told them he was taking you to your chambers and locking you in on Joffrey's orders. Once inside your chambers, Sandor grabbed a bag and began shoveling essentials into it. "We're leavin'. We can't stay here. 'Snot safe."  You nodded and moved his hands. "I will do this. Come back after sunset," you told him, kissing him quickly.

                Later that night, you found yourself on your horse, following after Sandor. "Where will we go?" you asked him. "Maybe we'll find that brother of yers," he replied. Your heart leapt to your throat at the thought of seeing Robb again. On one hand, you missed him, but on the other, you weren't certain he would approve of Sandor. All you could do was hope.

***time skip***

                After riding several weeks, you finally found your brother's camp. "Y/N?" he asked, unsure of what he was seeing. "Robb!" you cried, dismounting your horse and running over to your younger brother. You threw your arms around him and tried to fight back your tears. When you pulled away, there was a frown on Robb's face. "Why is the Hound with you?"

                You looked back over your shoulder and smiled. "He helped me, Robb. May we talk in private?" Robb nodded and took you by the hand, leading you to his tent. You felt Sandor move behind you, his protective instincts kicking in, but you reassured him with a smile and followed after Robb. Inside the tent, your brother turned to you.

                "Now, the Hound?" You sighed happily. "I love him, Robb." You went on to tell him exactly how it had happened and what had lead you to find Robb. Robb was quite as you spoke, his expression changing from neutral to angry to calm. "Robb, please. Do not send Sandor away. He is not Joffrey's guard anymore. He is the man I love and, if you send him away, I will follow." You put as much seriousness in your tone as possible.

                To your surprise, your brother laughed. "I will not send him away. I, myself, have recently discovered that love can be unexpected." He told you about the arranged marriage he broke off to marry Talisa. You smiled brightly at him. "Then, we can stay?" Robb nodded. "Of course. I would not send my sister away. Now, I am certain there is a lady in the next tent that is dying to see you, but first you should go to the Hound."

                You kissed his cheek and left the tent to find Sandor. He was right where you left him. You ran over to him and wrapped your arms around him. "Little dove, what's gotten inta ya?" he asked you. You shook your head and kissed him, not caring that anyone could see, until Robb came out and cleared his throat. "I really did not wish to see that," he said jokingly, "Y/N, go see our mother. She has missed you. I will get the H-Sandor a tent." You rushed off to see your mother, leaving your brother alone with Sandor.

                "I do not trust you," Robb said. Sandor nodded and gave a little grunt to show he heard him. "But, I can see my sister's feelings for you and my only wish is for her to be happy and safe. You make her happy and I know you can protect her. However, if you are to remain here with me, I need to know your feelings for her. Do you feel the same or is she simply another conquest for you?" Sandor glared at the young wolf, giving Robb all the answer he needed. "Good. I guess love really does come from the most unexpected places."

 

***time skip***

 

                Sandor clenched his jaw as your company walked into the Twins, where Walder Frey was waiting. Robb had some explaining to do and there was still a marriage that needed to happen. Sandor sensed something wasn't right, but he didn't want to frighten anyone, especially you. You had just reunited with your family and he loved you too much to take that away. But something was wrong in that place.

                Luckily for Sandor, you weren't a fan of weddings and you certainly weren't going to sit around and watch a marriage your uncle was forced into. You also hated the Freys with a passion so, you refused to go in after your brother offered your uncle's hand in marriage. You would have thought Robb would have been against it considering it was the same marriage he'd broken off for love.

                You and Sandor made camp just outside of the gate that night. Sandor didn't mind. He only wanted you to stay safe. When the shouting began, the two of you exchanged a glance. You heard the cries of Robb's defeat. Of how Walder Frey kill him, your mother and Talisa. You family was dead. Sandor wasted no time pulled you up on Stranger's back and riding away as quickly as possible before someone remembered you were there.

                Sandor forced Stranger to ride all night and, when dawn finally broke, he saw the tear stains on your cheeks. "Y/N?" You simply shook your head, not wanting to talk about it. Sandor simply nodded and stopped to give Stranger a break before continuing on. It wasn't until he found a spot to set up camp that you finally spoke. Your voice was hardly a whisper.

                "They've left me. My whole family has left me." You slid off Stranger's back and looked up at Sandor. "Are you going to leave me too?" you asked before walking into his open arms and burying your face in his chest. "I'm not gonna leave ya, Y/N. Someone's gotta protect ya." You sobbed louder, causing Sandor to stiffen slightly. After a moment, he relaxed again and kissed the top of your head. "I love ya. I'm not gonna leave ya. Ever."  

                You looked up at him. "T-Thank you, Sandor." You leaned in to kiss him. You could taste the salt of your tears as you kissed him, but you didn't care. Sandor was the only person you had left. Sansa was in King's Landing, Arya was missing, Jon at the Wall and the rest of your family was dead. Sandor gently kissed you back, but every time you tried to deepen it, he backed away.

                Without even speaking, you knew what was going through his mind. You were vulnerable and upset. You nodded and he kissed your forehead. "Ya need ta sleep, little dove. Come on." Once again, you nodded and helped him set up camp. When the tent was up, you got inside, Sandor right behind you. Knowing how Sandor still felt about physical touch sometimes, you asked meekly," Sandor, will you hold me?" A grunt was all the answer you received before his arms wrapped around you.

                You began to cry again and you cried until you fell asleep. Sandor kissed your temple after you fell asleep. "I love ya, little dove. I'll protect ya with my life. We'll find yer sister and you'll never have ta worry about losing anyone else. Not as long as I'm alive." With that vow on his lips, Sandor closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep next to you.


	14. Of Hounds and Stags (Sandor Clegane)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandor and the reader knew each other before in King's Landing. They meet again years later at Brother Ray's compound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mostly fluff. A little bit of jealous Sandor.

When you left King's Landing with your brother Renly, you never thought this was where you'd end up. You never expected that you would find yourself a part of a small community building a new sept. Renly was killed shortly after the two of you had escaped the city where your nephew ruled. You had decided to go with Renly because you knew that Joffrey would label you a traitor as well and you'd find your head on the chopping block. Literally.

                After Renly was killed, you had no choice but to run again or you'd be carted off back to Joffrey. That was how you found Brother Ray and his small community. They took you in, even knowing exactly who you were. You found a home there and a family even stronger than your blood. You all cared for one another and helped each other. After a while, you began to forget that you were a higher born woman. The sister and then aunt of a king. You would have forgotten your life in King's Landing completely if he hadn't shown up. If the Hound hadn't reappeared in your life.

                You stood and wiped the sweat from your brow when you heard the tell tale sign of a cart approaching. Brother Ray's cart came into view and ran over to meet him. "Welcome back, Brother Ray," you greeted with a smile. "Thank you, Y/N. We have company." You cocked your head to the side in confusion until he gestured to the back of the cart. You slowly made your way over and glanced at the giant of the man lying in the back near death.

                Your eyes widened. "I know this man," you whispered. "Do you?" You nodded. He was covered in blood, caked in dirt and grime but there was no denying who he was. "Sandor Clegane. The Hound. I knew him when I lived in King's Landing with my family." Brother Ray nodded. "I have heard stories of him."

                You snorted out a laugh and replied, "Who hasn't? He strikes fear into the hearts of most men." It was Brother Ray's turn to laugh. "True. Does he frighten you?" You shook your head. Sandor never had frightened you. "Good. Then you can help me with him." You spent the next several days caring for Sandor. You cleaned him up and did what you could for his wounds. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Sandor woke up.

                Shielding his eyes from the brightness of the sun, Sandor groaned and cursed softly. Then he heard a soft, comforting, and familiar voice. "You're awake. Good. Thought we lost you a few times there." Blinking a few times, Sandor's eyes adjusted and his vision cleared. Your face was the first thing he saw. "I know ya. Yer the Baratheon woman." You chuckled softly. "And I know you, Sandor Clegane." He groaned again as he moved to sit up.

                "Take it slow, Clegane. You were near death for some time. You need time to heal properly." He scowled at you, making you laugh. "Where am I?" he asked. You sat and talked with him, giving him any answers he wanted. He didn't tell you what happened to him and you didn't press the issue. Instead, you let him know exactly where he was and what was happening. "You are welcome to stay if you are willing to pull your weight. That is your decision. If you choose to leave, we will provide you with provisions." With that, you left his side for the first time since Brother Ray returned with him.

                Sandor watched you leave, his thoughts bouncing all over the place. He wondered why some random stranger would save his life. Why he was brought to this small community when everyone knew he was a killer. And mostly, he wondered how you'd ended up here. Still, Sandor wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. You had saved him and offered him a place to stay. Without really thinking about it, Sandor knew he'd accept the offer.

                The next few months flew by quickly for Sandor and it was partially thanks to the work he was doing but mostly, it was your company. You and Brother Ray were the only people to sit with him at meals, but you were the main person to actually speak to him. Sandor found himself eager to spend time with you every day. He enjoyed the conversations you shared and that you didn't look at him like he was a monster.

                "What are you thinking about, Sandor?" your voice brought him out of his reverie. He glanced up to see you smiling down at him. You held two bowls in your hands, one extended out to him. "Nothin' important." You hummed in response and sat down next to him after he took his bowl. "I highly doubt that. The mind of Sandor Clegane must be full of important thoughts." Sandor heard no jest in your voice. "I was thinking about this place. About how I got here. About ya."

                "Me?" He nodded, but didn't elaborate. The two of you ate, comfortable in each other's presence, as the rest of your community chatted quietly. Every once in a while, a silence would settle between you and Sandor would study your face when he thought you weren't looking. "You know, if you keep staring at me like that, I'm going to think there's something wrong with one of us," you quipped, looking back at him with a giggle.

                It never failed to amaze Sandor that you somehow managed to keep a little bit of your free spirit despite everything you'd been through. You still had an air of a noble woman, but you worked your fingers to the bone when necessary. "You're doing it again." He blinked and realized he'd been staring at you once more. You stood with your empty bowl and took his from him before leaning in and pressing a kiss to his temple.

                Sandor's eyes followed your retreating form for a moment before a voice caused him to look away. "You love her." Sandor gazed at Brother Ray who was smirking at him in amusement. Sandor scoffed and let out a short laugh. "No, I don't." Brother Ray shook his head with a smile. "Yes you do. The way you look at her tells me you do. But, if you wish to tell her, best to do it quickly." Sandor followed Brother Ray's gaze to where you were. One of the men of the community was standing and talking with you.

                "He's fancied her since she came here. For a while, I thought we might have a wedding. Then you came along and Y/N? Well, her affections shifted." Brother Ray's eyes met Sandor's. "She doesn't love me." Brother Ray laughed. "You clearly don't know much about women. She does love you. All you have to do is watch her, really watch her, when she looks at you and you'd see it."

                Brother Ray said nothing more as you returned. "What are you two up to?" Brother Ray and Sandor exchanged a glance before the former approached you. "Just a friendly conversation. Enjoy your evening, Y/N." He gave your shoulder a friendly squeeze and left you alone with Sandor once again. "What was that about?" you asked Sandor, whose eyes were on you yet again.

                Sandor stood up, towering over you in a mere second. He looked down at you. "Do ya love me?" You stared at him in shock. You knew he was blunt, but you never expected him to be that blunt. When you didn't reply, Sandor turned away from you. "Yes," you finally answered, barely above a whisper. He heard you anyway and turned back. "What?"

                "Yes, Sandor. I do love you. I thought I was being obvious." Taking one large step, he was right in front of you. "He was tellin' the truth?" Your brows furrowed. "Who?" you asked before your mind made the connection. "I told him to stay out of it," you muttered shooting a glare in Brother Ray's direction. " 'M glad he did," Sandor said softly. You glanced back up at him and saw the softest expression you'd ever seen on the man. Before you could respond, Sandor took your face in his large hands and leaned down to crash his lips against yours.


	15. Punishment? (Sandor Clegane)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joffrey punishes the reader by forcing her to marry the Hound. But is it really a punishment in the end?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forced marriage but mostly fluff.

You pulled Sansa close as you cursed the day you ever journeyed to King's Landing with your uncle Ned Stark. It had not been a pleasant stay and you had a feeling it was going to get worse now that your uncle had been executed. You would have bet money on it and you would have been right. You did not just how bad it would get until the day Joffrey enforced his idea of punishment on you.

                You were wandering the corridors of the Red Keep, your handmaiden close behind when the king approached you with his loyal guard. "Your Grace," you greeted through clenched teeth as you curtsied. He smirked at you. "Have you heard, Lady Y/N? It seems your entire family is full of traitors. Your aunt and cousin have risen up against me. It appears I shall have to punish them as well." You glared at the boy.

                You'd always had a problem holding your tongue and now was no different. The next words poured from your mouth before you could stop them," If anyone deserves a punishment, it is you. You are nothing but a spoil child throwing a temper tantrum." You saw Sandor fighting a smile just before you turned, leaving a fuming Joffrey behind. He made up his mind right then that you would have to be punished and one look at Sandor, he knew just how to go about it.

                The next day, you were summoned to the Throne Room for an audience with Joffrey. You sighed heavily and followed the guard to the room. You knew Joffrey would not let your comments go unpunished, but you were not expecting what he had decided to do to you. No one would have expected it. You entered the room, your head held high as your Tully blue eyes scanned the room. It seemed everyone in King's Landing was present, but the one that surprised you the most was the septon.

                You slowly approached the Iron Throne as Joffrey stood, the sadistic smirk never leaving his face. You stopped right in front of the throne and curtsied. What was your punishment going to be? You glanced up at the boy king as he opened his mouth to speak. "People of King's Landing! You have been asked into the Red Keep to join the royal family in the marriage of Lady Y/N Tully to Sandor Clegane!" Cheers erupted in the grand room as your eyes widened and you looked over at Sandor who looked just as shocked as you were for a moment. Marriage? To The Hound? One look at Joffrey's face and you knew that this was your punishment.

                Joffrey offered his hand to you and gave you a look, daring you to argue. You took it and he practically pulled you over to where the septon and Sandor were waiting. You felt your stomach turn and you were certain you were going to be sick. Too soon for you to really notice, the ceremony and feast  were over and you were being pulled away by your new husband. The only saving grace of the evening was that Joffrey was too disgusted by his "dog" and a "traitor" to insist on a bedding. The very thought made you shudder.

                You let Sandor lead you from the feast to your new shared chambers. You immediately let go of his arm that had been basically holding you up and shied away to the other side of the room, your eyes never leaving his hulking form. You were petrified.  "I'm not gonna hurt ya, girl and I'm not gonna bed ya either," he said simply, taking a chair. You stuck your chin out defiantly and retorted, "I am not a girl! I am a woman." You watched a brief flicker of amusement cross his features before his usual stoic expression returned.

                "Aye, ya are that," he rasped. You nodded once. How were you going to get through this? As if reading your mind, Sandor said, "Ya could try and escape, but Joffrey will find ya and do much worse to ya." You closed your eyes and sighed, knowing he was probably right. "What can I do?" you asked, mostly to yourself, but he heard you anyway. "Look, woman, even if it was a surprise, you're my wife now and I will protect ya. These chambers are the safest place for ya."

                "Could you please stop calling me 'woman' or 'girl'?" you asked, making him smirk at you. Even as upset as you were, you didn't lose your sass. "I do have a name, _husband_ ," you added sarcastically. He let out a bark-like laugh. You scoffed and moved to pour a goblet of wine. That was the only way you were going to get through the night. "I know ya do, Y/N," he said softly. You looked up over the rim of your glass.

                You took the time to really look at him. He might have been considered handsome if not for the scarred flesh. His brunette hair was long and thick and his eyes were beautiful shade of brown. The man had never been cruel to you, although you had seen him kill others. You sighed deeply and accepted your fate. What else could you do? Sandor was right. If you ran, Joffrey would find you and you would be subjected to tortures you couldn't even imagine.

                "Well then, you can call me by my name and I shall call you yours, Sandor," you said. You were now determined to make the most of this situation, even if it killed you. He grunted and crossed the room to pour himself some of the wine. You looked around the candle-lit room and sighed. "Ya should go to bed, Y/N," Sandor told you. You finished your wine and stifled a yawn. It was odd to you that the man seemed to be able to read your mind. "Perhaps I should," you agreed.

***time skip because length***

                You'd been married to Sandor for a few months now and life at the Red Keep was actually more pleasant than it had been. Because they knew who your husband was, no one dared to threaten or harm you. They were petrified of Sandor, or more accurately, of what Sandor would do to them if he found out. He was your protector, just as he promised and you found yourself falling for him more and more every day.

                Sandor was a different man behind closed doors. You saw one another every night, sharing stories and getting to know each other. You realized that he wasn't the cold-hearted killer everyone thought. He may have enjoyed killing, but he never killed without reason. He told you about how his brother pressed his face to the fire. In all honesty, you never really noticed the scars anymore. They were simply part of who he was, but they didn't define him.

                It was one evening when you were sitting together in your chambers drinking wine that you realized you loved him. Over the time you'd been married, you had grown to love the crude, violent and angry man that had been a punishment. You chuckled to yourself, causing Sandor to look at you curiously. You told him what you'd been thinking, making him laugh darkly. "It appears as though the king needs to work on his definition of punishment."

                You watched him for moment. He really looked much more handsome when he laughed. You stood from your chair and walked over to his, silently. His eyes met yours and he quirked an eyebrow at your actions. You simply smiled and moved closer until you were right in front of his chair. Even sitting down, his head was level with yours. You placed your hands on his broad shoulders and leaned in before you could lose your nerve.

                You pressed your lips to his in a clumsy and somewhat awkward kiss. You hadn't had much experience, but there was something pure and raw about the kiss that quickly grew more passionate as Sandor pulled you down into his lap. When you parted for air, he chuckled again and said, "Aye, some punishment." You giggled and kissed him again.


	16. His Return (Jorah Mormont)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jorah returns to Westeros with his new, very pregnant, wife.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mostly fluff.

Jorah had a decision to make. He'd finally found a cure for the Greyscale and was making his way back to Westeros. Word had spread that Daenerys had won the war and the Iron Throne.  A few months before, Jorah would not have hesitated to return to the Targaryen's side. That was before he met you. Before he fell in love with you.

                Jorah met you during his search. You had been kind and immediately offered your assistance, which Jorah accepted. Over time, Jorah developed feelings for you. Feelings he thought he could only have for Daenerys. Those feelings blossomed and Jorah decided he wasn't going to make the same mistake he had Daenerys. He told you how he felt and was thrilled to hear that you felt the same. A passion between you was ignited and now, your belly grew swollen with his child.

                Now, Jorah had to decide whether he should return to Daenerys' side or if he should go home to Bear Island. He wasn't certain he could return to Daenerys with you in tow, but he was certainly not going to leave you. He wanted to get you somewhere safe before the babe was due. Jorah leaned on the railing of the ship as he pondered his predicament.

                "What has you so distressed, my love?" your voice came from behind him. Jorah smiled and turned to face you. "Nothing." You quirked a brow at him and scoffed. "You cannot lie to me, Jorah. You do not have to tell me if you don't wish to." He wrapped his arms around you. "I don't know where to go when we dock in Westeros," he admitted and you sighed. You knew all about his love for Daenerys, but you also knew that the young one needed his council.

                "Jorah, do what you think is wise. I will follow wherever you choose as long as you will have me," you told him honestly. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and gave you another smile. "This is why I love you." He placed a gently hand on your stomach, laughing when he felt the child kick. "And I love you, as well," he whispered to his babe. You kissed his cheek before leaving him alone with his thoughts. Jorah pondered his choices the rest of the journey to Westeros and, by the time the ship docked, Jorah knew where he needed to be.

                Jorah lead you carefully through the streets of King's Landing, heading for the Red Keep. He could tell you were nervous. "I promise I will keep you safe, Y/N," he whispered while you were waiting to be seen by Queen Daenerys. "I trust you, Jorah." You absent-mindedly ran your hand over your stomach, trying to calm your nerves.

                You were soon walking into the throne room on Jorah's arm. "Jorah the Andal! You have returned at last!" the queen greeted, a small smile on her face. Jorah bowed and you curtsied as best you could. "And who is this?" Jorah took your arm once again and replied, "This is Y/N Mormont. My wife." You could have sworn you saw Daenerys' smile falter for a second before her expression returned to neutral.

                "You are welcome in King's Landing, Y/N. I trust Jorah has treated you well?" You nodded. "He has." You could cut the tension in the room with a knife, but Jorah pulled you a little closer to him. "I cannot deny that I am glad of your return, as is my Lord Hand, Tyrion Lannister." Jorah bowed again. "Show Ser Jorah and his wife to their chambers," Daenerys ordered.

                When you were safely in your chambers, you turned to Jorah. "The queen does not like me," you said simply. Jorah looked to you. "The tension was rather thick in there, but do not worry. Daenerys will come to love you. Especially when she learns that all my best thoughts come from you," he said with a laugh. You joined him in laughter as he held you close. "I love you, Y/N. If you do not wish to stay, then we shall leave. Go to Bear Island." You pondered for a moment before answering, "We can stay of course, Jorah although I reserve the right to change my mind." You added that last part as a joke. Jorah laughed before pressing a kiss to your lips. "I believe I can agree to that."


	17. Teach Me (Oberyn Martell)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oberyn and the reader have been friends for as long as they can remember, so when she asks him to teach her to dance, he's more than willing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FLUFF!! ALL THE FLUFF!

Your laughter echoed through the gardens as you strolled with your best friend, Prince Oberyn. You and Oberyn had been close from the moment you met. You spent a little time together every day. That day, the two of you decided to take a leisurely stroll through the palace and gardens. The two of you joked and laughed as you walked. More than once, Oberyn tried to get you to accompany him to bed. Each time, you would shake your head fondly and giggle. Oberyn merely shrugged and joined in your merriment.

                A silence fell between you as you walked. That often happened with Oberyn. You actually enjoyed the comfortable silences, but Oberyn seemed to notice something off about you that day. "What troubles you, Y/N my flower?" You scoffed at him, as you always did when he called you that. You looked up at him and saw the genuine concern in his dark brown eyes. It made you sigh, before you flushed with embarrassment at what you were about to confess.

                "My family...we are hosting a grand feast in a fortnight," you answered quietly. Oberyn quirked a brow, unsure of what you were getting at. "That is wonderful. I enjoy a good feast," he said, "Why should a feast be so troublesome to you, my friend?" You sighed again and sat down on one of the many benches in the garden. You weren't sure you could explain to Oberyn what troubled you. You didn't think he'd understand.

                "My father has invited many lords and their sons. I will be expected to dance with them," you told your friend, your voice getting quieter with every word. Oberyn didn't say anything. He simply waited for you to continue. "I, uh, do not know how to dance," you finally confessed and waited to hear his laughter. It was silent for a moment as Oberyn sat with you. The chuckles never came.

                You looked up at him. There was no hint of amusement on his face. "Is that all, flower? Why did you not say? Come. I will teach you." Your brows furrowed. Was he being serious? "What, now?" He nodded and offered you his hand. You took it and stood. Oberyn carefully placed your hands where they were supposed to be and did the same with his own. His eyes never left yours as he began instructing you through the steps.

                He chided you several times for looking down at your feet. You'd immediately pick your head back up and blush. He'd laugh at you gently and then  turn his attention back to the dance. Soon, you were swaying and twirling far more gracefully that before. You were still a little clumsy, but if you kept practicing, you would be able to dance by the time the feast was held.

                "Already, dancing so well," Oberyn praised. You smiled up at him. You were still swaying gently in his arms. "Thank you, Oberyn. You did not have to help me." He returned your smile, his bright white teeth contrasted beautifully against his tanned skin. "I wanted to. I could not have you embarrass yourself by tripping over your feet. What kind of friend would I be?" You playfully punched his shoulder and backed away. "I must go, but I will see you at the feast?" Oberyn nodded and gave a small bow before you turned and hurried away.

***The night of the feast***

                Oberyn watched merrily as you were passed from one young lord to another for the dance. He could tell two things. One: you had been practicing. You were extremely graceful and did the dances nearly perfectly. Two: you hated being around all the young lords that were only there at their fathers' urging. After about the fourth dance, you found Oberyn's gaze with a look that screamed "help me!"

                Oberyn chuckled to himself and moved to cut in. "Of course, my prince," the lord you were currently dancing with said before he bowed and let Oberyn sweep you away. "Thank you, my friend. I was afraid I would die of boredom if I had to listen to one more story from that young man." Oberyn laughed heartily. "Of course. You have turned into a magnificent dancer, Y/N. I am a wonderful teacher." You rolled your eyes. "Yes, my prince. Thank you for your offer to teach me," you said sincerely. The music stopped and Oberyn pulled you into a hug. "It was my pleasure." He pulled away from the hug and, bringing your hand to his lips, kissed your knuckles.

                 You felt an odd fluttering sensation when he did that, especially because his eyes did not leave your face. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks. "Come. I need to feast!" he declared, pulling you to the table by your hand. You saw both your parents and his shaking their heads and smiling as Oberyn practically drag you to your seat. After he grabbed a bite to eat, Oberyn took two goblets of wine and the two of you snuck away with them.

                You were hiding just outside the door next to your parents' table and you could hear them talking. "Y/N and Prince Oberyn get on so well," you heard your mother comment and then, Oberyn's father spoke just as the two of you took large gulps of Dornish wine. "They do. I wonder if perhaps they are already aware of our intent to betroth them to one another?" You both choked on your wine and looked at each other in surprise. Betrothed to Oberyn?

                For a moment, the two of you simply stared at each other. Oberyn found his voice first. "Betrothed? We are to be wed? Did you know?" he asked. You shook your head. "No. I-I cannot believe they did not tell us." Oberyn moved slightly closer to you. "I suppose there could be worse fates that being wed to you," he said softly. You frowned and retorted, "Thank you. I could do far worse for a husband I suppose. But it means things will change between us."

                Oberyn shook his head slightly. "No. It will not change much. Except for a couple of things." You cocked your head to the side. "Such as?" He took another step closer. You hardly noticed. He was your best friend and you were close to each other all the time. "Such as...I can call you my flower anytime I wish." You rolled your eyes again. "You already do that, Oberyn." Another step. "And you will have to kiss me, my flower."

                You swallowed thickly and blushed again. "You have never kissed anyone, Y/N?" You shook your head. "Not a real kiss, no." Oberyn cupped your chin with his hand and lifted your face up to his. He gazed into your eyes, silently asking permission. "Teach me," you whispered. Just like that, his lips were on yours. He tasted of the wine you had been drinking and it was intoxicating. You relished the feeling of his lips on yours. And to think, it never would have happened if he hadn't taught you to dance.


	18. Like Mother, Like Son (Ramsay Bolton)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay wants his son to be just like him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is pretty dark. Violence and death happens. And Ramsay being Ramsay.

Like most men, Ramsay was thrilled to see that you had bore him a son. He was determined to raise the boy to be as ruthless as he was. To take what he wanted, no matter what. As he held his son, Ramsay planned out the boy's life. He glanced up at you with a smile. "You've done well, Y/N." You wanted to roll your eyes, but you were too exhausted. Besides, you knew that was the most praise you'd get out of Ramsay.

            As the boy grew, Ramsay became more and more frustrated with his son. "Ramsay, just let him be," you begged, "You don't have the same interests your father did. Let the boy be a boy for a while." Ramsay ignored you, grabbing up his bow and leaving to find his son. You sighed and went back to your own duties. There was no getting through to Ramsay at this point and you knew it.

            By the time your son was ten years old, Ramsay was prone to fits of rage with him. The boy had still not taken to his father's way. He was much more like you, despite how much he looked like Ramsay. Your son refused to hunt for mere sport. He would do it in order to feed people, but not for the senseless killing of animals like his father did. He rarely raised his voice to the servants or villagers. He wasn't violent or cruel. Just the opposite. He was very kind and even gentle sometimes, something Ramsay wasn't going to take lying down. It would all come to a head when your son was sixteen.

            "You're too soft on the boy!" he roared at you one evening after your son had gone to bed. You barely looked up from your book. You were used to Ramsay's anger by now. Besides, you'd heard it all before. "When I was his age, I knew the kind of man I wanted to be! But look at him! He might as well have been born a girl!" At that, you weren't going to be silent any longer.

            "No, Ramsay. Real men are not cruel like you. Our son is the heir to House Bolton and he will be a kind ruler over our people. He will take their needs into consideration, rather than his own pleasure! He shall know when it is right to dispense justice or when mercy is warranted, something you will never know. I, for one, am glad he will not become a monster like you!" Your skin felt hot with rage by the time you finished speaking.

            Ramsay stared at you in disbelief. You never had a problem making your opinions known, especially when it came to your son, but you'd never just laid into Ramsay like that before. You'd never called him a monster to his face. While he hadn't laid a hand on you since he discovered you were pregnant with your son, you'd had your fair share of "punishments" from your husband and you'd seen what he could do to others who upset him.

            "You're poisoning him against me. That's why he refuses to take in anything I tell him. You've poisoned my son against me," Ramsay finally said when he spoke again. His voice had taken on a quality that you knew well. The quality of a man possessed with rage bubbling just underneath the surface and it was about to erupt. At this point, you were far too angry to care. You scoffed. "I've done no such thing. Face it, Ramsay. Our son will never be like you, of his own free will." You turned away from him, but that was a big mistake.

            You felt him behind you in an instant. His hand was around your throat, holding you to him so your back was flush against his chest. You could feel his hot breath in your ear and it made you shiver. "He will learn to be worthy of the Bolton name, if it is the last thing I do," came Ramsay's reply, words dripping with acid. For once, you actually felt scared of your husband, but only for a split second. You didn't have time for anything else as you felt a strong stinging sensation in your stomach.

            You glanced down to see Ramsay's hand clutching a knife. Blood was seeping out all over your dress and the floor. Ramsay gave the knife a twist before pulling it out and letting you go. You fell to the floor, writhing in pain and gasping for breath. Part of you couldn't believe that Ramsay would do such a thing while there was part of you that knew he was capable of anything. The last thing you saw was Ramsay standing over you with that gloating smirk on his face. Then, everything went black.

            Ramsay was still standing there when your son came barging into your chambers. "Mother, I-" he cut off seeing you on the ground. His gaze flickered between you and Ramsay. "Father?" Ramsay put on a mask of horror and remorse. "Someone attacked your mother. I was too late." Your son ran over to you and shook you. Nothing.

            "I promise you, son, we shall find who did this and they will pay. We shall show them that you do not trifle with House Bolton." The teen looked up at his father, masking his own feelings. He knew, without a doubt, that this was no random attack. That it had been Ramsay who did this to you. Still, he knew he had no chance against his father right now. He'd have to bide his time.

            He stood up and faced Ramsay. "You're right, Father. They will pay for this." Ramsay clapped the boy on the back and turned to leave the room. "Good. Come. We must make sure you're ready when the time comes." With clenched fists, your son followed Ramsay from the room. The whole time he was thinking to himself, " _You will regret this, Father. You'll see. I will do exactly what you want of me. I will become just like you and, when the time is right, you will regret ever teaching me_."


	19. Sharing a Bed with the Hound (Sandor Clegane)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader and Sandor find an inn with only one bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just cuteness!

If you had known that there was only one room available in the inn, you wouldn't have insisted on stopping for the night. To make matters worse, that one room had only one bed.  Unfortunately, it was too late now. Winter had finally come and it was too cold to travel at night. You knew that you'd never make it to Winterfell if you froze to death.

                You looked at Sandor who had his eyes on the bed. He was glaring at it as if it offended him. Shaking off your uncertainty, you walked further into the room and set your pack down. "I'll sleep on the floor," Sandor offered and you shook your head. "No. You won't be warm enough down there." Sandor stared at you and you groaned. "Look, the bed is big enough for both of us. We have to stay warm." Sandor didn't respond verbally. He nodded and made his way over to the bed.

                Letting out the breath you didn't know you'd been holding, you went to the other side of the bed. Sandor insisted on taking the side closest to the door. It only took you both a few minutes to ready for bed and to climb in. You welcomed the comforting warmth of the bed and fell asleep quickly to the sound of Sandor's snores.

                The next morning, you woke up to something warm hitting the back of your neck. You opened your eyes and attempted to move. Something heavy was weighing you down. Glancing down, you saw a large arm draped across your stomach. It took your brain a second to remember that you were sharing a bed. That meant that the warm air hitting your neck was Sandor's breath.

                You had just enough room to turn around in his arms and, when you did, his arms tightened around you. You found yourself warm again, but this time it was from the blush on your face. You'd never been that close to Sandor before and you were certain that you never would be again. Biting your lip, you made a decision. You started to stretch up, but Sandor's eyes opened.

                For a moment, neither one of you said anything. Those browns eyes stared back at you for what felt like hours. Then, Sandor slowly removed his arm from around you and he sat up. You did the same and ran your hand through your hair. The awkwardness permeated the entire room until you couldn't take it anymore. You didn't like too much silence.

                You turned to face him at the same time he turned to face you. Unfortunately, he was closer than you thought. You jumped and ended up falling off the bed in your surprise. You laid on the floor for a moment. Then, you started laughing at yourself. What else could you do? Sandor's deep, raspy laughter soon joined yours.

                "Are ya alright?" he asked when the giggles finally died down. You nodded and got up from the floor. Once again, your clumsiness got the better of you. You tripped over your own feet and fell forward into Sandor's lap and waiting arms. You groaned in embarrassment but Sandor chuckled. "I think ya need lessons in walkin', Y/N." You scoffed and rolled your eyes playfully. "Don't I know it?" You sat up fully so you could see his eyes. There was a softness there that you'd never seen before.

                Before you realized what you were doing, your lips were pressed to his in a short, sweet kiss. You pulled away, afraid that you'd overstepped your bounds. You moved to get up, but Sandor's strong arms tightened around you to hold you in place. "Don't," he whispered, "Don't go." You gave him a small smile and kissed him once more. "I won't." 


	20. The Hound and the Maid (Sandor Clegane)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandor gets close to one of the maids after saving her from Joffrey's wrath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of Joffrey and Meryn Trant being cruel, beatings, but also some fluff!

You understood Joffrey was cruel, but you hadn't known just how cruel he could be. Now you did as the so-called king slapped you across the face for third time in as many minutes. When he had his fill, he nodded to Meryn Trant who stepped in front of you and began hitting you over and over again. You refused to cry out, knowing that's what Joffrey wanted. Sansa Stark was standing next to Joffrey begging him to stop. You knew it was hopeless. You were merely a handmaiden and to Joffrey, you were expendable.

                You cringed, waiting for the next blow that never came. You opened your eyes and saw that someone had moved in between you and Meryn Trant. "That's enough," the figured rasped out. You recognized the voice of The Hound, Sandor Clegane. He was not about to let Meryn Trant mar your pretty face anymore. It was cruel. After all, you hadn't really done anything.  Joffrey instantly became enraged. "DOG! Who told you that you could stop a punishment?!" You did your best to stop the blood running from your lip. "She's just a handmaiden, Your Grace," Sansa said as calmly as she could. Joffrey scoffed and left the scene.

                "Thank you," you said softly before Sandor could leave the room. He turned to you. He sighed and pulled out a handkerchief. As he dabbed the blood on your lip, you studied his face and he studied yours, discreetly. In your opinion, he probably would have been considered attractive if not for the scarred flesh. His eyes were deep pools of brown and his bearded chin made him looked even more mysterious. He took in your shiny (h/c) locks and sparkling (e/c) eyes for a moment and then, without another word, he turned and left you alone.

                The next morning, you were up and in the kitchen before anyone else. You decided to serve breakfast to Sandor as a way to thank him. You quickly finished cooking and made your way down to his chambers. You raised your hand and the door swung open just as you went to knock and you ended up nearly punching Sandor in the chest. Needless to say, he was not expecting to see you. "Oh dear gods! I am so sorry!" He grunted in response before opening his mouth to rasp out, "What are ya doin' here, woman?"

                "I-I, uh, brought some b-breakfast," you stuttered out, "To thank you for helping me with Joffrey." As you spoke, your voice steadied and became stronger. Sandor simply stared at you for a moment. You were being kind to him when most women would scurry away in fear. "May I?" you asked gesturing to the tray in your hands. He moved aside to let you in so you could set the food down. You turned back to him with a smile. "I'll just be going now. Good bye, Sandor."

                You felt a genuine lightness in your step after that morning, that you decided to continue. Every morning, you would rise before anyone else and make breakfast for Sandor. After the first couple of weeks, he seemed to become more comfortable with you and began inviting you to stay and eat with him. At first, the two of you sat in silence. Then one morning he asked, "Y/N, why do ya call me 'Sandor'?" Your brow furrowed as you studied his usually unreadable expression. You could see the confusion and curiosity in his eyes.

                "It's your name. isn't it? Clegane is so formal and The Hound is...demeaning. Does it bother you?" you asked him. He pondered for a moment. Did it bother him? No one used his name anymore, but hearing it from you made him...feel. "I... don't mind." You smiled and patted his hand. "I have to return to the kitchen. Good day, Sandor," you said before walking out. Sandor smiled to himself before quickly returning his expression to its usual scowl as he went to his post guarding Joffrey.

                Throughout the day, you often found yourself gazing at Sandor. When that happened, you simply shook your head and turned back to your duties. What you didn't know was that Sandor was having the same problem. He always seemed to have you in his sights even though he was supposed to be paying attention to Joffrey. He watched as you moved around the Keep tending to your duties. The longer he watched, the more he realized that he felt something for you though he wasn't certain what.

                Sandor was waiting for you the next morning, but you never appeared at his door. That wasn't like you and to be honest, it worried Sandor. He decided to search for you until he had to be at his post. His didn't have to look far. He found you curled up in the kitchen. Your knees were pulled up into your chest and your (h/c) hair was covering your face. Sandor could hear you crying. "Y/N?" You looked up and Sandor took a step back.

                Your lip was split again and you had a black eye. There were bruises covering your arms. "Seven Hells! What happened to you?"he asked kneeling in front of you. You blinked back more tears and told him what had happened. Meryn Trant found you in the kitchen early that morning and decided to finish doling out Joffrey's punishment from weeks before. "I'll kill him!" Sandor declared and moved to get up. You grabbed his arm. "He's not worth it, Sandor. That will only make it worse for me." You moved to stand and hissed in pain.

                Sandor put his arm around you to steady you and you yelped. "Sounds like broken ribs, lass." He picked you up bridal style and carried you from the kitchen. "Where are we going?" Sandor merely grunted and kept walking. After a few minutes, you realized that you were outside his chambers. "No one will bother you here." He looked at your face and had to steady his heart at the look you were giving. The look of utter adoration. A look he didn't think he deserved. He could have protected you and he failed.

                "Stop thinking about it, Sandor. You didn't do this," you told him as if reading his mind. He set you on the bed and stood. "Sandor? Why did you come to the kitchens?" Sandor gazed down at you and wondered if he should say anything. "I was looking for ya. I wanted to ask ya something...What does  it mean when I want to spend every moment with someone? When I worry about her every moment she isn't with me? When all I can think about is her?" Sandor hardly spoke this much and when he did, it was when he was drunk and angry and he was usually throwing insults or punches.

                You sat up with difficulty and glanced at the man towering over you. "I think it means that you love her, Sandor." Love. Sandor had no real experience with it. Not from his mother who died when he was young, nor his father and certainly not his brother. He'd only ever known distaste from and for others and now here he was, hopelessly in love with the woman in front of him. "Hmm..." You smiled and pulled him down to sit next to you. You put your hands on his cheeks and leaned in to kiss him. It was clumsy, awkward and slightly painful due to your split lip. None of that mattered because, in that moment, you were his and he was yours.


	21. My Rescuer (Jorah Mormont)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the reader's brother Viserys tells her that she has to bed one of Drogo's khalasar, Jorah comes to her rescue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Viserys being emotionally and mentally abusive, as usual, angst, and a bit of fluff.

You stood quietly next to your brother Viserys, keeping your violet eyes trained in front of you despite the fact that you wanted to run and hide. You knew if you dropped your eyes to the ground, Viserys would surely lash out at you in anger. The sight of the khalasar frightened you. You scanned the faces of the riders, knowing that one of them would be wed to your sister, Daenerys. Your eyes landed on the one man that was clearly not Dothraki. He was an older gentleman with a kind face.

                Your mind was brought back to your family when your brother gave your arm a little pinch. You gazed at him. "Apparently, another rider in the khalasar wishes to take you. Step forward," he ordered you. For a moment, you could not move for fear. You were not ready for this. True, you were older than Daenerys, but it was her that men wanted. She was the one supposed to marry. You were not supposed to offered as a sacrificial lamb for slaughter. Viserys pinched you again, but discreetly shoving you forward. One of the Dothraki gazed at you and licked his lips in appreciation before turning and riding off after Drogo.

                Later, when you were alone with Viserys and Daenerys you gazed fearfully at them. "I will not bed him," you told your brother simply. Daenerys, your host and the kind-looking man all gaped at you. Viserys stopped eating to meet your eyes. "Dearest sister, do you not wish me to be king? Do you wish to be stuck here instead of reclaiming the throne that is rightfully mine?" You frowned deeply. You hated when Viserys did that. He often used guilt to persuade you into doing things you did not want to do. "Of course not, Brother. I simply will not sleep with  him. Dany is to wed Khal Drogo and he shall give you the army you need. You have no reason to bed me to one of the Dothraki."

                Viserys threw his goblet of wine like a spoiled child and glared at you. You flinched and got up to leave the room. As you passed him, Viserys grabbed your arm roughly. "You will bed the Dothraki so I will have my army, Y/N. I am not asking," he whispered harshly before letting you go. You forced yourself not to run from the room. As soon as the doors closed behind you, you broke into a run. You ran as quickly as you could toward your chambers, not hearing the quick, sure footfalls behind you. "Princess," a deep voice called to you. You turned to find the man you now knew as Jorah Mormont approaching. "Ser Jorah," you curtsied. "Are you alright?"

                You paused a moment to think. You weren't alright, but you feared how Viserys would react should you say anything. So you put on your best fake smile and replied, "I am well, Ser. My brother wishes only the best for me." Jorah looked at you pointedly. You could tell he didn't believe you. You weren't sure whether you should curse yourself for being too obvious or curse him for being too observant. "I can see that you don't really believe that," he told you bluntly.

                "I cannot change his mind," you whispered, looking down at your shoes. You felt rough, calloused fingers lifting your chin up. Jorah looked at you with such sympathy that you couldn't fight the tears anymore. "Perhaps not, but there may be a way to avoid bedding any of the Dothraki, but only if you agree, Princess." You looked at him, curious as to what he had to say. He opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it before he lead you to the library. Once the door closed behind you, Jorah began to tell you his idea.

                "That will never work, Ser. My brother would consider it treason and have both of us killed," you cried. Jorah gave a little laugh at your reaction. "I do not believe that. He and your sister need me to translate Dothraki for them for now. He cannot afford to kill me. You cannot be forced to bed the Dothraki and you will be safe from your brother's wrath," he told. You sat back and thought for a moment. Would it work or would Viserys see to it that you suffered a fate worse than death? "Very well. Thank you, Ser Jorah." Jorah gave you a soft smile and you put your plan into action.

                The next morning, you met your brother as he was breaking his fast. "Good morrow, dearest Y/N. I trust you have come to your senses and are willing to do what I say," Viserys asked, not looking up from the scroll in front of him. You cast a glance at Jorah across the room, who nodded reassuringly. You squared your shoulders and answered, "I am not. I refuse to bed any man that is not my husband." At the last word, Daenerys choked on her wine and Viserys snapped his head in your direction, fire in his eyes. "Husband? You have no husband dear sister," he said. You quickly walked across the room and linked arms with Jorah. "I do have a husband. We were wed last night," you told him.

                Viserys looked between you and Jorah for a moment before saying, "I see. And have you consummated said marriage?" You blushed under his intense stare. Viserys stood quickly and made his way to your chambers. You had known he would. In truth, you had not consummated the marriage, but Jorah came up with the idea of cutting your leg so there would be blood on the sheets. That would be enough proof for your brother. You heard an inhuman howl echoing through the halls and after a moment, Viserys reappeared. His white-blond hair was disheveled and his eyes were wide with rage.

                "You insolent whore. How dare you?!" he screamed, taking long strides toward you. Jorah placed himself between you and your brother. "You will not speak to my lady wife in that manner. And you will not force her bed anyone that is not me. We were married in the eyes of the old gods and the new and the marriage was consummated. She is mine and I am hers. Nothing will change that." Viserys took a deep breath as he backed away.

                "You are too smart for your own good, dearest sister." Jorah took your hand and lead you from the room as you tried to steady your rapidly beating heart. You looked sideways at Jorah's determined face. You realized that you had a friend in this life. He was your hero. The type you'd only ever read about. "Thank you, Jorah. You rescued me from a cruel fate," you told him when you'd reached your chambers. You gave his cheek a quick peck before disappearing inside.


	22. Young Bride (Oberyn Martell)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oberyn's new bride is a little young, but he thinks he's even younger than she is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little angst and a lot of fluff.

You weren't sure what you had done to make Oberyn unhappy, but you must have done something. You were standing before the Dornish prince, mouth open in shock and confusion. "Forgive me, my Prince, but what are you saying?" you asked him. "I cannot marry you, Y/N. You are free to explore Dorne and find someone more suitable to you." You laughed bitterly. "You accepted the arrangement my father made and now you tell me that you cannot marry me?"

            Oberyn's dark eyes scanned your face. He couldn't tell if you were saddened or furious. Neither boded well for him. You clenched your fists at your sides. "May I ask why the change of heart, Prince Oberyn?" Definitely furious. Oberyn gave you what he hoped was a kind smile. "Dear Y/N, you are younger than some of my youngest daughters. I cannot marry you." You scoffed. "How old do you believe me to be?"

            "You cannot be more than sixteen." You rolled your eyes. You were used to that. "My twentieth nameday is in six moons, my Prince." Without waiting for a response, you curtsied and left the room. You needed to put some space between you and the handsome prince, along with his beautiful paramour. You couldn't believe that Oberyn's only argument against your marriage was your age. Perhaps if your personalities clashed, you could see his side of things, but in truth, the two of you got along very well.

            Oberyn was kind and sweet. He was gentle and yet extremely passionate in everything. He held a positive view of the world, but he also never lied to himself about the darkness in people's hearts, especially outside of Dorne. He hadn't treated you with anything other than a gentle heart since you arrived in Dorne, except now. You wanted nothing more than to leave his presence...his kingdom. Unfortunately, that wasn't possible and now? Now you had to stay and watch as Oberyn spent his days with his paramour, refusing to marry you.

***time skip***

            Oberyn ran his hand down his face as he watched you. It had been months since he'd told you he couldn't marry you and now he was kicking himself. You had proven yourself to be a lovely and charming woman. Despite your anger at Oberyn, you never let it change the way you treated him and you even got along with Ellaria and his daughters. In truth, you made Oberyn fall for you in spite of his misgivings. Suddenly, your age didn't seem to matter as much, but Oberyn was certain that you could not love him. Not after the way he'd treated you.

             He and Ellaria were watching as you trained with the Sand Snakes. You had asked Oberyn if you could shortly after his rejection just so you had something to do with yourself. "What troubles you, my love?" Ellaria asked him. She noticed that his eyes never left your form. She didn't blame him. Her daughters would not take it easy on you simply because you hadn't been training long. It was entirely possible for you to get hurt. "Do you think I was a fool?" Oberyn asked her and she smiled. "Yes I do."

            Oberyn's gaze snapped to her and she laughed softly. "You turned her away so soon, Oberyn, you never got the chance to see the kind of woman she is. You were too focused on her years. I have spent time with her. She is a formidable woman, one that could capture and keep your interest for a very long time. She is caring and charming, yet you don't want to anger her. She is the perfect woman for you, Oberyn. She could keep you on your toes for years to come."

            "Does this make you jealous?" Ellaria laughed again. "Of course not. If anything, she has intrigued me as well. I believe you should give her a chance. You may come to love her as I have." Oberyn quirked a brow. "You love her?" Ellaria nodded. "I do. She is interesting. I don't believe we shall ever be bored. Talk with her." With that, Ellaria pulled Oberyn in for a deep kiss before turning and leaving him alone with his thoughts.

            You smiled when you finished your training. One of Ellaria and Oberyn's daughters pulled you into a hug. When you backed away, your eyes met Oberyn's and your smile drooped slightly. "Y/N, will you walk with me?" he called to you and you nodded. Not like you could deny the prince even if you wanted to.

            You slowly approached your former betrothed. Your anger had melted soon after you'd felt it. You still weren't happy with the situation, but it wouldn't do any good to stay angry. It took too much energy to stay upset with the handsome man. Besides, he was so engaging that it was nearly impossible to stay angry anyway.

            "What can I do for you, my prince?" you asked, smiling at him. He returned the smile and offered you his arm. Once you'd taken it, Oberyn lead you to a more secluded place in the palace. You glanced at his face and could automatically tell that something was bothering him. "What is it, Oberyn?" Oberyn was surprised to hear the concern in your voice. You reached over and cupped his cheek, making him look at you.

            Oberyn sighed. "I do not have many regrets in my life, Y/N. There is one that will haunt me until I know how to fix it." You cocked your head to the side in confusion. "What?" Oberyn frowned a little. It was strange to see something other than a smile or flirty smirk on his face. "I made a mistake with you, Flower. I never should have broken our betrothal. I understand that now. My only question is whether you will forgive me."

            "Of course, I forgive you, Oberyn. After thinking about it, I can understand your misgivings. You thought me younger than I am. And yes, I was angry, but it did not stop me from loving you." Oberyn's dark eyes searched your (e/c) ones in search of any sign of joking. Finding none, he grinned. "So you do love me?" You giggled. "How could I not, my prince? You are the best of men and I would be lucky to have you by my side. You and Ellaria."

            "Will you reconsider our marriage then? Do me the honor of marrying me and becoming a Princess of Dorne?" He reached up and placed his hand on the one cupping his cheek. He wasn't going to let you run away. Not now. Not that you had any intention of doing so, but he wanted to be sure. "Of course, Oberyn. On one condition." Without wasting a second, Oberyn answered, "Name it. Whatever you want, Flower, it's yours!"

            You let out a giggle. "Kiss me." Oberyn's soft smile turned into a wolfish grin. "I warn you, Y/N, once I kiss you, you'll never want another man's lips on yours again." You scoffed playfully. Then, you reached over with your other hand to touch his other cheek. "I already don't." Oberyn laugher merrily before leaning in and pressing his lips to yours in a very passionate kiss. Months of denied love and attraction made for a kiss you never thought you'd get. Oberyn was right. You would never want to kiss any other man after that.


	23. Childhood (Ramsay Bolton)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader reflects on their time growing up with Ramsay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of Ramsay's abusive tendencies.

****

If anyone ever said that Ramsay had a softer side, the only one who would believe them would be you. You grew up with Ramsay and you had known him before he realized the kind of man he wanted to be. The cruel and sadistic man he was now didn't exist when you were children. When you were small, Ramsay was sweet and caring. The two of you would play for hours on end around the Dreadfort and no one ever stopped you. You smiled as you looked back on your favorite childhood memories with Ramsay.

_"Come on, Y/N! First one up the tree gets the first slice of pie!" Ramsay cried before scurrying up the branches. "You cheated!" you called, but laughed and followed him up. You were slightly smaller, but quicker than he was so you made it up the tree before he did."No fair, Y/N!" Ramsay said, his lip puffing out in a pout. You smiled and stuck your tongue out. "It was so!" Ramsay glared. "I'll race you back down!" You rolled your eyes but followed him back down the tree, this time letting him win._

                You looked on as Ramsay practiced in the yard. Things had changed so much over the years. You had both grown up and Ramsay's personality had changed so much. You flinched slightly when you heard metal hitting armor. Your childhood with Ramsay hadn't always been great. There was one time, when you were in the practice yard, that Ramsay's temper got the better of him.

                _"Ow! That hurt!" you cried. Ramsay had hit you rather hard with the practice blade. You were only 8 after all and he was 10. You got hurt far more easily than he did. "Don't be such a child, Y/N!" he cried_. _You felt the tears welling up in your eyes. "Why are you so mean?" you asked him, dropping your sword down. You and Ramsay didn't fight often, but when you did, it was bad. Ramsay's face turned red with anger and frustration. "Pick up the blade!" You shook your head in defiance. The fight continued for several minutes before Ramsay eventually got so upset he hit you again, this time in the stomach, knocking the wind out of you. You didn't talk to him for the rest of the day until he apologized._

                That was one of the last times you ever trained with Ramsay. From there on, he got more aggressive and violent. You kept telling yourself it was just a phase and he would get better. If only you had known that it would only get worse.

_"Y/N!" twelve year old Ramsay called as he barged into the stables, scaring the horses. You glared at him as hard as a ten year old could. "What?" you asked, turning your attention back to your horse. You felt a hand wrap around your arm and pull you backwards. "Come with me!" You tried to fight against him, but he was bigger than you so you let him drag you from the stables. He lead you to an old tree, where one of Ramsay's dogs had cornered a helpless animal, far too small to be a meal for anyone. "Look what I trained him to do," Ramsay's voice was barely above a whisper. He barked an order at the dog and the animal lunged, tearing the defenseless creature to shreds. Ramsay wore a smirk of satisfaction as you looked on in horror._

                You suppressed a shudder at the memory. From then on, Ramsay spent his days training his dogs and hunting. The final straw for you was when you discovered that Ramsay's favorite sport was human. He enjoyed the hunt and the aftermath of it. He would take his "prizes" and torture them. Ramsay ran his training partner through with his sword and his gaze met yours. He beckoned you down and you swallowed thickly. You knew what was about to happen.

                Just before Ramsay had gone down to the training yard, the two of you had an argument about his new "toy", Theon Greyjoy. He was being far too cruel, probably crueler than you'd ever seen him. You had yelled at your former best friend and tried to reason with him, but to avail. Ramsay was dead set on torturing poor Theon. Now, it was your turn. Ramsay didn't handle being undermined very well. As you slowly made your way to the practice yard, you couldn't help but wish you could go back. Back to your childhood. Back to the time before Ramsay became this horrible person.


	24. Surprise Agreement (Sandor Clegane)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandor agrees to escort the reader back to her family and then surprises everyone when he asks to stay with the Stark family instead of returning to King's Landing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little angst and maybe a little fluff.

The Lannisters were not known for surrendering. Yet, they had agreed to your brother Robb's terms and let you go. That surprised you. What surprised you even more was the fact that Joffrey's sworn shield, Sandor Clegane, offered to return you to the North where your brother was waiting. You were a little frightened. Not because you thought he'd hurt you, of course. He'd never shown any signs of wanting to do that. But because you weren't certain if it was a Lannister trick. Still, you knew you would need a guard  to get back to the North safely.

                "Why did you offer to take me home, Ser?" you asked him one day during your journey. You were missing Sansa and asking Sandor questions helped keep your mind off it. "I'm no knight, so don't call me that. As for why I offered ta bring ya home, I needed ta get out of that place." You nodded, but didn't reply. The two of you had been traveling to together for a few weeks now so you knew not to press certain issues. Once Sandor gave you an answer, that was it.

                However, as weeks went on, you found yourself talking more and more. You got to know Sandor slowly but surely and you weren't disappointed. By the time you reached Winterfell, you knew him better than probably anyone. You felt close to him. You found it easy to talk to him, even about your deepest desires and dreams, although you were certain he really didn't care. Still, you would definitely go as far as to call him a friend and you'd be sad to see him leave.

                You reached Winterfell sooner than you expected, probably due to Sandor's company. "Hodor!" You grinned at the giant of a man. "Hodor! It's good to see you old friend." He looked down sheepishly. "Hodor." You laughed. "I know. It's been too long." You and Sandor dismounted your horses, handing the reins to Hodor. "Hodor, is Robb inside?" Hodor nodded before walking away.

                "Ya understand him?" You assured him that you did. "Hodor has been with us since before I was born. It took time, but I understand almost everything he says. Come on!" Without thinking, you grabbed Sandor's hand and pulled him inside the castle. Sandor followed behind silently, shocked at the fact that you had touched him willingly. He let you lead him to the great room in the castle where your brother was seated behind a large table.

                "Robb!" you squealed as soon as the doors opened. You dropped Sandor's hand and ran toward your brother. Robb stood and opened his arms to you. "Y/N!" He hugged you close for a moment before his eyes found Sandor. "Did he bring you home?" he asked you quietly. You nodded. "He did. Please, Robb, be kind. He never hurt me. Never laid a finger on me. He offered to bring me home." Robb nodded and let you go.

                "You are welcome in Winterfell, Sandor Clegane." You wanted to roll your eyes at him. He was trying too hard to be "lordly". "I think the two of you should rest now. Tonight, we shall have a small feast to celebrate your return." You smiled at him and made your way to your room. Sandor was shown to his and got himself cleaned up before returning to Robb.

                "What can I do for you?" Sandor opened his mouth to reply, but couldn't find the words. Robb smirked and asked, "How can I reward you for bringing my sister home?" Sandor shook his head. "I don't need a reward. Just a job. A place in your guard or whatever lets me kill somethin'." Robb stood in shock. "You wish to pledge allegiance to me? To Winterfell?" Sandor nodded. "Why?" Sandor shrugged. "'M not goin' back to the Keep."  Robb ran his hand over his beard in consideration.

                "Very well. I thank you for your honesty and pledge. What can I offer you in return?" Once more, Sandor shook his head. "I told ya. I don't need or want a reward. Just don't send me back." Robb readily agreed and Sandor left the room just as you entered.

                "Y/N, did you know that the Hound would bend the knee to me when you arrived?" Your brows furrowed in confusion, indicating that you had no idea. "And what did you give him in return for his allegiance?" Robb looked flabbergasted still when he responded, "Nothing. He said he would take no reward. Only asked that I not send him back to King's Landing." You sat down and pondered why Sandor switched his allegiance.

                You wondered about it for the rest of the day until your curiosity couldn't take it anymore. That night, after the feast, you made your way to Sandor's chambers. You hesitantly knocked on the door, not wanting to wake him if he'd passed out in a drunken stupor. You breathed a sigh mixed with relief and nervousness when a raspy voice called out, "Yeah?"

                You slowly opened the door to see Sandor sitting on the edge of his bed with a goblet of wine in one hand. "Shouldn't ya be down there, battin' your pretty eyelashes and singin' songs for the fancy lords?" You chuckled. "The fancy lords have all retired for the evening. I wanted to see you." Sandor quirked a brow. "Now why would ya want ta do a thing like that?" You shrugged and let silence settle over the room.

                "So," you began after a few minutes, making Sandor glance at you, "My brother told me something interesting." Sandor didn't reply. "He told me that you pledged allegiance to him. With no reward." Sandor nodded. "Aye. What's it ta ya?" You took a step toward him. "I want to know why. It's not like you."

                "Maybe I've changed." You rolled your eyes and snorted. "Now that I have noticed. However, I don't think that's the reason. So, why?" Sandor took a sip of his wine, refusing to answer. "You've been with me long enough to know that I'm not going to give up until I find out what I want to know." He took another sip of wine, his brown eyes locking with your Stark grey ones. "You're a stubborn one, ya are." You grinned. "I know."

                More silence followed and you could tell he was thinking. You didn't know if he was thinking of how he was going  to word his answer, or if he was trying to think of a lie. "So?" Sandor groaned loudly before he set his cup down and stood. "I don't want no fancy castle or anything like that." You cocked your head to the side. "What do you want then, Sandor?"

                He gingerly reached over and pushed a strand of hair from your face. "I want ta spend time with ya. Ta see ya smilin' at me like ya did on our journey. Ta protect ya. That's what I want." He'd never spoken so much at one time and you felt the tears welling up in your eyes. "Why me?" He shrugged. "Ya don't look at me like I'm a monster, not matter what I've done."

                You reached over and put a hand on his scarred cheek. "I could never look at you that way." Sandor swallowed thickly at your closeness. "I..think I love you, Sandor." Sandor scoffed and removed your hand from his cheek. "No ya don't, girl. Ya would be stupid ta." You laughed softly. "Then I'm stupid. And I can see that you feel something for me too." You put your hand back on his cheek and leaned in to press your lips to his in a soft kiss.

                For a brief moment, Sandor just sat there stiffly. Then, as if something inside him clicked, Sandor began to kiss back. His hands moved your hips and yours wrapped around his neck. When you broke apart, you looked into his eyes and sighed happily. "I love you, Sandor." He grunted in response, but you knew exactly what he was trying to tell you.


	25. A Woman in the Brotherhood (Sandor Clegane)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandor meets a woman traveling with the Brotherhood Without Banners. The attraction between them is instant, but neither one of them will admit it. Until Beric and Thoros decide to meddle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff mostly.

You were staring at him again. Sandor could feel your eyes on him as you all set up camp. He shook his head and returned his attention to what he was doing. He was learning to ignore the looks you gave him, knowing they were looks of disgust and distrust. You'd been watching him intently since Sandor decided to join the Brotherhood without Banners in their journey North. He'd immediately captured your attention and you grabbed his.

                Sandor mainly ignored you when you were near him, or he'd flat out tell you to leave him be. Not that you listened. He couldn't afford to get attached, no matter how beautiful you were. However, when you weren't looking, Sandor would watch you. He wouldn't stare, but he would observe you. The way you moved, the way you spoke, the way you interacted with the others and the way you trained. You trained hard, not caring if you were covered in dirt and sweat. That was Sandor's favorite. Still, he knew there was no way you would see him as anything other than a disfigured killer.

                So, it confused him when you began placing your bedroll next to him at night. Instead of saying anything, Sandor chose to ignore you. You didn't seem to get the message because you continued every night for several weeks. Not only that, you began walking with him during the journey and trying to talk to him. There was a part of Sandor that wanted nothing more than to talk to you. To, maybe, fall in love with you. The gods, if they were real, seemed to put you in his life for a reason. But then, there was the louder part of him that said you could never love him. And that was the part he listened to time and time again.

                You let out a soft sigh as Sandor turned away from you again. "You know he will not stop pushing you away. Perhaps you should try a different approach," your leader offered, giving you a knowing smile. You rolled your eyes. "I do not know what you mean, Dondarrion." His one eye focused on you. "Yes you do, Y/N. Clegane is a man who believes there is no redemption for him. Perhaps you can make him see there is." He got up, leaving you there to ponder his advice. You looked up and met Sandor's gaze for a brief second.

                Not tearing your eyes away from him, you got up and walked over to Sandor. "Clegane, my muscles could use a stretch. Care to train with me?" He gave a grunt before he chuckled. "I might hurt ya, little dove. Best ta stay trainin' with Dondarrion's men." You scoffed and took a step closer so you could lower your voice. "Between you and me, I've trained with all of them. I know every single one of their moves. I know how they think. I need more of a challenge."

                He stared at you. "Why would ya want ta do that?" You shrugged before giving him a bright smile. "Good way to get out some tension.  Surely you can feel it too?" His eyes narrowed but he nodded. "Fine but if ya get hurt, don't say I didn't warn ya." You smirked before leading him away from the camp. As soon as you were far enough away, you unsheathed your sword and swung around at him, almost catching him by surprise. He defended beautifully as you continued to attack.

                "Why do you keep ignoring me, Clegane?" you asked as you blocked one of his thrusts. "What do ya mean?" You fought the urge to roll your eyes again. "I mean, why won't you speak to me? Every time I try, you push me away." For a moment, he said nothing, prompting you to ask again. "I'm tryin' ta keep ya safe. Tryin' ta keep myself safe." Your brows furrowed together. You were about to open your mouth when you heard the tell tale whizzing of a loosed arrow.

                Before you could react, you felt yourself being thrown to the ground. "Oof." You opened your eyes to find Sandor hovering over you. You glanced over to find the arrow stuck in the tree right next to where your head had just been. You let out a sigh of relief as you laid your head back down on the ground. Only then did you realize how close Sandor actually was. His cheeks were a faint pink color, but he made no move to get up.

                His brown eyes met yours. "Are ya alright?" You couldn't speak so you simply nodded. After a moment, you found your voice. "Is that what you meant by keeping yourself safe?" He shook his head. "No. I meant I can't risk fallin' for a woman that's never gonna love me." Your eyes widened before you laughed. "You are an idiot," you whispered, reaching up and pulling his face down to yours until your lips crashed together. You were both so into the kiss and the feeling of your bodies pressed together, you didn't notice Beric and Thoros standing at the tree line.

                "Was that really necessary, Thoros?" Beric asked as Thoros handed over the bow. "How else would we have gotten that result? Clegane is a changed man, as we all see. He needed to know that there is still hope for him. The Lord of Light is much kinder than the Seven or the old gods. Her love proves that to him. They just needed a little push." Beric scoffed but followed Thoros away from the clearing.

                You broke away from Sandor to breath. "Ya called me an idiot." You rolled your eyes again. "Is that truly all you took away from that?" Sandor actually smiled. A real, genuine, happy smile. "No. I also took this," he replied before leaning down and kissing you again, gently as if he was afraid he'd break you. He pulled away. "Why me?" You returned his smile and answered, "Because you aren't like other men. You are dangerous, yes, but you feel deeply and you truly care. You are not like the stories say. You are a great man, even if you don't see it."

                He cupped your cheek with one hand, the other keeping his weight from completely crushing you. He smashed your lips together. This time when you parted, he rested his forehead on yours. "Thank ya." You laughed, telling him it was nothing. "Now, would you mind letting me up? I truly did intend to train." With a chuckle, Sandor got up and helped you to your feet. In an instant, you both hand your swords in hand again. You laughter carried over the wind to the camp, causing the men of the Brotherhood to smile.


	26. The King's Sister (Sandor Clegane)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader is Robert's sister. She has a secret relationship with Sandor Clegane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst, fluff, and King Robert's mouth and temper.

You looked around you, watching for shadows in the dark corridor. You had to make sure you weren't followed before you raised your hand and knocked lightly on the door in front of you. The door immediately opened and you were pulled inside. Before you could even catch your breath, you felt his lips on yours, his beard lightly scratching your face. You giggled into his lips despite the nagging voice in the back of your head saying you'd be in so much trouble if anyone were to discover your little secret.

                You were in a secret relationship with the Hound, Sandor Clegane. Prince Joffrey's sworn  shield. That wasn't the reason your relationship was a bad idea. It was a bad idea because of who you were, or rather, who your brother was. King Robert. That's right, you were a Baratheon. Twin sister to Renly as a matter of fact. You knew your brothers would never approve of your relationship with Sandor, Robert least of all and you prayed to every god there was that he never found out. Unfortunately for you, the gods did not answer your prayers.

                After your time with Sandor, you quickly kissed him before opening the door to head back to your own chambers. Your eyes went wide when you saw your eldest brother standing just outside, his arms crossed over his large chest. His face was as red as a tomato. You could almost see steam coming out of his ears. "R-Robert!" you cried. His blue eyes narrowed. He grabbed your upper and pulled you from the room. "I will deal with you later," he growled at Sandor, who simply stood there seething at Robert's treatment of you.

                Robert dragged you down the corridors and you wondered how he'd found out. Who could have possibly told him? You had been so careful all this time. Robert lead you to his own chambers and, after kicking out the whore that had been waiting for him, he turned on you. "What in the Seven Hells is wrong with you? You are the sister to the King and you decide to throw in your lot with some guard dog?" You glared at your brother.

                "Sandor is not just 'some guard dog'! He is a good man! He protects your son without question! He never answers back and does unspeakable things in the name of YOUR son! And yet he still serves faithfully! When he's with me, I know I do not have to worry about any dangers lurking around! He is kind to me and a passionate lover, the most passionate I've ever had. And above any of that, I love him!" You stopped your rant when you said the last sentence. You'd never said the words out loud but, as soon as you had, you realized just how true they were. You loved Sandor Clegane.

                "What do you mean 'the most passionate you've ever had'? You've had more than one? Since when did my sister start spreading her legs?" Robert asked. You rolled your eyes and sighed. Really?  "Is that truly all you heard? You have no room to talk, brother. You have a wife and yet, you have many, many, many, many lovers. Did you not hear me? I love him, Robert."

                "You do realize he can't take you as his wife? He can't have children with you?" You arched a brow at him. How quickly your brother forgot things. "Robert, Sandor isn't a knight. He never took those vows. He can do whatever he damn well pleases! It is his choice! If he wishes to marry me, I will gladly take his hand and if not, then so be it!" Without another word, you turned on your heel and walked through his door, brushing past Jaime who always guarded your brother's chambers. Both men stood there with their mouths hanging open.

                You were shaking with anger as you made your way to your chambers. You would have thought Robert would understand, especially after what happened with Lyanna. He knew what love was, or at least he had once. You closed the door softly behind you and leaned your head back against it. "How's yer arm?" Sandor's voice made you jump. How hadn't you noticed him sitting on your bed? "It's fine. Robert would never really hurt me. Not physically anyway."

                You closed the distance between you and climbed onto Sandor's lap. "Ya know the whole Keep heard yer yellin'," he said, settling his hands on your hips. "Did they?" You gave him a sly smile. You wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned in to kiss him. "Aye. They did." You could see the redness of his face and you chuckled. "I assume that means you did as well. Meaning you heard me say that I love you." Your voice went soft again as your usual confident demeanor slipping away slowly.

                "I did." You bit your lip as you looked into the brown eyes that never failed to make you melt when the two of you were alone. Sandor was a man of very few words, but those eyes spoke volumes and just then, they were gazing at you like you were everything in the world. You didn't need words to know that he loved you too. You only needed those eyes and those lips that crashed into yours.


	27. Prize (Sandor Clegane)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joffrey arranges a tournament and the winner wins a big prize. The prize? The reader.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A person being used as prize, arguing, and a little teeny bit of fluff.

What in the Seven Hells? You sat in the stands watching as man after man jousted. Each man had his eye on the prize. Something never offered before. The prize? You. This wasn't exactly how you planned to find a husband. It was barbaric and it made you feel like a slave. However, you were a bastard. What more could you ask for? You certainly couldn't expect a noble lord to marry you, even if you were the daughter of the honorable Eddard Stark. Now, here you were, waiting to see which deplorable man would win you as his wife.

                The very thought made you sick to your stomach and it only got worse when the next contestants moved into place. You instantly recognized the helm of Sandor Clegane. The Hound. You were stunned. In truth, although the man enjoyed killing and a good fight, you thought he was better than that. You never thought he'd stoop so low as to try and win you. You hoped he was different than other men in King's Landing, but it turned out he wasn't.

                The sickening feel you felt in your stomach turned into rage as Sandor won the final bout. His eyes found your form and he saw you were shaking with anger. Jaime Lannister took your arm gently and lead you away from the crowd. "I am sorry, Y/N," the knight whispered to you and you looked up at him in confusion. "This was no way to arrange a marriage. And to the Hound, no less." You looked down at the ground. Honestly, you didn't have anything against Sandor until he entered into a joust for your hand.

                "Where are you taking me?" you asked, changing the subject a little. You didn't want his pity. Jaime frowned and replied, "To your new chambers. The ones you'll be sharing with the Hound, who will be your husband after tonight. The king is insisting on the marriage taking place this evening." You inhaled sharply. You hadn't expected it so soon. Still, there was nothing you could do but let Jaime lead you to your new rooms. Once there, Jaime left you alone, but you didn't have to wait long before the doors opened again, revealing your husband-to-be.

                The moment you saw him, you crossed your arms over your chest and glared at him. "Don't look at me like that, woman. It won't do ya any good," he rasped, his eyes never leaving you. "How could you? I honestly believed you were better than the rest of them. That you wouldn't stoop to their level. I always knew you were ruthless and brutal, but I never believed you could be so cruel!" With every word, your voice grew louder and more shrill.

                "Knock it off, would ya? There's no need ta shout," he said coolly, making you even angrier. "Yes there is! I am not some prized cow! I am a person, bastard or no!" In two large strides, Sandor crossed the room and gently placed a hand over your mouth. "Please stop, woman. Let me explain." You glared at him again and he removed his hand. "Explain what? How you're no better than the other men?" Sandor let out a sigh of frustration.

                "I did it to protect ya! To save ya from those men!" he cried. You looked up at him and saw just how serious he was. Your eyes softened. "Protect me? Why?" For a moment, he didn't answer. Sandor backed away from you and began pacing. You could see the gears turning in his head as he tried to think of the right words. "The others...they didn't want ya for a wife. They wanted ya just ta say they had ya. Someone to screw and then leave or worse."

                "Why do you care?" Sandor groaned out loud. You knew he didn't talk much, but you also had the right to know why he even wanted to "win" you in the first place. "I didn't wanna be the one ta find yer body in the streets because yer 'husband' was finished with ya." You cocked your head to the side in confusion. "Is that all?" you asked, your voice much softer than before. You didn't have the energy to yell anymore.

                Sandor grunted and you rolled your eyes. "Please. If I am to spend the rest of my life with you, I have the right to know what possessed you to do this," you pleaded. You didn't care if he saw you as weak. You needed to know. For several minutes, the silence weighed down on both of you, your question hanging in the air unanswered. "Sandor...please."

                "Because I love ya! Hells, woman, is that what ya wanted?!" Your eyes widened at his confession. He ran his hand down the unscarred side of his face as you simply stared at him. He'd just said that he loved you. Every response you could possibly think of was floating through your mind, but every time you opened your mouth to speak, nothing came out. "Now ya choose ta shut up? This is gonna be long life, Y/N," Sandor grumbled.

                "I-I don't know what to say. I should say that I love you. Really I should, but I am so angry with you, I don't know if I can," you continued to ramble on and on until he gave a hollow chuckle. You stopped talking and looked down at your shoes. Your face was hot and the awkward tension permeated the room. Not only from you, but from him as well. He wasn't good with emotions and neither were you.

                After several more minutes of quiet, you let out a scoff. "Screw it," you mumbled before closing the distance between the two of you. You threw your arms around his neck and his instinctively went around your waist to keep you both balanced. "What are ya doin', woman?" You didn't say a thing as you carefully pressed a kiss to his lips. The kiss was so sloppy and awkward at first, but the two of you soon found a rhythm. In that kiss, you let out all the emotions you couldn't seem to put into words.


	28. When He Was a Snow (Ramsay Bolton)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before Ramsay was a Bolton, he and the reader were in love. Then tragedy strikes and it changes Ramsay's behavior.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff with angst. Violence and blood and death.

You felt the sun coming in through the windows. You tried to move, but a weight across your stomach stopped you. You turned your head to look at the man lying beside you and a smile spread on your lips. Ramsay cracked open one eye to gaze at you. " **I'm cold. Come closer** ," he said, voice thick with sleep. He pulled you closer to him and closed his eye again. You giggled a bit and said, "Ramsay, love, I must to get up." The man tightened his grip on your waist.

                " **I don't want to get up...you're comfy**." You chuckled again and removed his arm. "I must. You may stay in bed if that is what pleases you." Ramsay grabbed your arm and pulled you back down onto the bed. " **I'd like it if you stayed**." Ramsay gave you a look that was both incredibly endearing and somewhat frightening. It was almost a challenge. You quirked a brow at him. For most people, the look on Ramsay's face would have them jumping to do his bidding, but not you. You didn't take well to being ordered around. "Good day, Ramsay Snow."

                " **I think I'm in love!"** Ramsay cried as you reached the door. You stopped dead and glanced over your shoulder. "I'm in love with you, Y/N." You turned around to face him. He looked completely serious, but you never could tell with Ramsay. He could have simply said that make you stay. He seemed to sense your disbelief because he continued, " **I have never felt this way about anyone. I can't stop thinking about you and sometimes I can't control myself around you."**

                You nearly melted at his words, but you knew better than to fully trust him.  From the moment you met him, you knew that the only thing Ramsay wanted was to please his father so he would be legitimized and no longer a bastard.  "And what of your aspirations, Ramsay? You would leave me in a moment if your father ordered." There was no denying that you hated Roose Bolton and there were times, when he was angry  that Ramsay reminded you of his father. " **All I want is you! I could never leave you, I love you too much!"**

                "I'm afraid you will have to prove that to me," you said, before turning back to the door and leaving. You weren't gone long before Ramsay heard a blood-curdling scream. The man scrambled out of bed and ran for the door. A few feet down the corridor, Ramsay saw you and several others. They were holding weapons to you, but you were doing your best to fight them off. Ramsay wasted no time in grabbing the nearest thing that would pass for a  weapon and running to your aide. "Ramsay! Thank the gods!"

                Together, the two of you fought off your attackers until the guards came to your rescue, taking your attackers to the dungeons. "You came to save me. Why?" you asked Ramsay, breathless. "Of course I did. **I will always be here to protect you** from jerks," he replied. You were still panting. " **People are jerks** ," you agreed, " **But not you**." Ramsay smiled at you just before you fell into him. "Y/N?" You gazed up at him, your eyes full of tears. Ramsay followed your gaze as you looked down at your stomach.

                There was blood oozing from a wound you hadn't noticed. Your legs immediately went weak and you collapsed. Ramsay's arms were the only things preventing you from hitting your head on the stone floor. Ramsay tried to stop the bleeding but you knew nothing could help. You were dying. "Ramsay?" He looked at your face again. " **Can I kiss you?"** Ramsay pressed his lips to yours and you went still.

***present day***

                Ramsay watched on as another prisoner tried to flinch from his flaying. Something had changed in Ramsay the morning he lost you. He became everything the world had always seen him as. He became the man his father wanted him to be. A ruthless killer that would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. He was a Snow no longer. Now, he was a Bolton. He pushed away every thought he had about you after you died and those responsible were executed immediately. Ramsay fought every emotion he'd ever felt when he was a Snow and focused now on being a Bolton and, perhaps one day, Warden of the North.


	29. Not Like Other Dornish Ladies (Oberyn Martell)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oberyn finds himself taken with the plus size reader.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much fluff.

Oberyn let his gaze wander over to you yet again. You radiated confidence and it drew the Dornish Prince to you. Not only that, but you weren't like the other noble ladies Oberyn met. You had fire and spunk. You knew what you wanted and you went for it. You had intelligence and a sharp tongue.

            All those qualities were what Oberyn admired. Not only that, but you were different physically too. You had more curves than most noble women and you knew how to work them. You loved yourself and didn't look for a man's approval. Everything about you drew the Prince in and made him fall. Yes, Oberyn Martell fell and fell hard for you.

            "You're staring again, my Prince," you said, pulling Oberyn out of his thoughts. He had been so consumed, he hadn't even realized you had moved from your spot and walked over to him. "Is it a crime to stare at something so beautiful, Flower?" You rolled your eyes and shook your head fondly. "Once again, you will have to try harder to pull me into your net, Prince Oberyn." Oberyn smirked. "Then try harder, I shall."

            Your own smile fell. You had been expecting him to shrug you off and find someone else. Apparently that wasn't the case. It wasn't that you didn't want to be one of Oberyn's lovers, you did. It was that you wanted to be his only lover, especially because his others were the tall and thin women. You were proud of your curves, yes, but they were often too much for men to handle. Your affairs hadn't lasted long before.

            Oberyn could handle you if you'd let him, but you weren't about to let him in so easily. Not when he could have any woman he wanted. You wanted to know for sure that he was truly serious about you. That he wanted you for more than what you could give him in the bedroom and that it had the chance to last.

            "Why are you trying so hard?" you asked him after several minutes of quietness. Oberyn looked at you in surprise. "Why wouldn't I, Y/N?" You scoffed. "My dear prince, I have seen the women that grace your life and bed. They are nothing like me. Why would you suddenly decide to change your tastes to a woman who makes you work for to get her?"

            Oberyn laughed and it echoed through the now quiet courtyard. "It is because you make me work, Y/N. Yes, I've had many women grace my bed, men too. But you? You are not like them and that is what I love about you, my flower." You looked shocked at that. Oberyn "loved" many people, but you had a feeling that he meant it in a different way with you. Something about the tone of voice he used.

            "You love me." It wasn't a question, but the prince nodded anyway. "I do. Most assuredly." You looked into this dark eyes and saw no hint of jest. Deciding to mess with him, you took a step closer and leaned in until your lips were almost touching. "I guess you'll just have to prove it, then."

            You pulled away, turned on your heel, and walked off. Oberyn smirked after you, laughing quietly. No, you weren't like other Dornish ladies. And yes, Oberyn loved it. He was going to prove it to you, no matter how long it took.


	30. The Mountain versus the Hound (Sandor Clegane & Gregor Clegane)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader is betrothed to Gregor, but she doesn't want to be since she's in love with someone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An unwanted arranged marriage, violence, and fluff.

Sandor was furious. Once again, his brother was awarded something he never should have been. That wasn't why he was angry, however. Sandor's rage was caused by the fact that Gregor had been given yet another wife. Normally, it wouldn't have mattered to him, except this time, Gregor's wife was going to be someone Sandor knew. The one person he loved, but was afraid to admit. You.

                You weren't too thrilled about the arrangement either. You didn't want to marry Gregor since you were in love with someone else, but there was nothing to be done. Once the King and your father had made up their minds, that was it. There was no going back, so, you simply stayed silent. That is, until the day of the tourney when, along with a someone else, you would change things for good.

                You were sitting with the other lords and ladies when the tourney began. Joust after joust, you watched brave men fight and fall until there were only two left standing. Your future husband and his brother. As the two rode in, Gregor glared at you but Sandor rode by and offered you his favor. You gave him a small smile and took the token with trembling hands. As terrible as it was, you prayed to the old gods and the new that Sandor would win.

                Sandor took his pace at one end and Gregor at the other. You grabbed your handmaiden's hand and squeezed. "Ouch, m'lady." You winced and apologized, letting go of her hand. You watched as the two brothers rode at each other as quickly as possible. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and closed your eyes when you heard a lance splinter. They flew open again when the sound of metal clashing against metal rang out.

                The two brother's were fighting, helms discarded in the dirt somewhere. Gregor's face showed nothing but anger while Sandor's expression was one of pure determination. He was going to win this tourney. He had to. Once he did, he could afford to send you somewhere safe. Somewhere far away from his brother.  With one final blow of his sword, Sandor was victorious. A part of him wanted to breathe a sigh of relief and the other part watched Gregor intently. He would never go down without a fight.

                In typical Gregor fashion, the Mountain threw down his sword and stalked off. Once Gregor was out of sight, Sandor looked up in the stands and found your smiling face. You pushed your way passed the crowds to where Sandor was standing. "You were wonderful!" you cried before pressing your lips to his in excitement.

                The silence was deafening as you pulled away from him in shock. Your face felt hot with embarrassment and his was as red as a rose. Everyone in the stands was gaping in horror at the fact that you had just willingly kissed the Hound. The man you were in love with. "I'm sorry," you whispered before turning and running from the tourney field. You wanted to crawl in a hole and die. You'd kissed the Hound. You were betrothed to his brother and still you kissed him!

                You didn't get far before you heard footsteps behind you. "Y/N," a familiar voice stopped you in your tracks. You fought back the tears as you turned around to face Sandor. "I'm sorry. I should not have done that. I'm betrothed to your brother. It was wrong." You rambled until he chuckled. You stopped talking and stared at him. You'd never heard him laugh before.

                "Wrong? No. Bein' forced to marry my brother is wrong. Gregor is not the sorta man any woman should be forced ta marry, least of all ya." You blinked up at him. "Why do you care?" you asked quietly. He removed his gloves and threw them to the side. Without another word, he cupped your face with his hands, pulled you up to meet him and crashed his lips onto yours. You kissed back with just as much passion, albeit with a little confusion. Why was he kissing you?

                He broke away and rested his forehead on yours. "That's why. I don't care about anythin' or anyone except ya," he whispered and that was all you needed to hear before you kissed him again. This time, when you parted, you asked, "What of your brother? I was given to him." Sandor glared at the mention of the arrangement and replied, "Why do ya think I wanted ta win the tourney so much? With the purse, I can send ya away somewhere. Somewhere far from him."

                "And you?" Your (e/c) eyes gazed into his in fear. "I have ta remain here for a bit longer, but I'll come ta ya when I can. Now, I want ya ta leave tonight, ya hear?" You nodded. You turned to leave, but Sandor wrapped a hand around your arm. You looked back and he whispered, "Be on yer guard." You nodded and he let you go. He watched as you disappeared into the Red Keep. If Sandor had been a man of faith, he would have prayed that you got out safely.

***time skip***

                Sandor tried to fight the smile on his face when the small village came into view. After so long, he was finally going to see you again. He knew exactly where to find you and he couldn't wait. He made it to the small home on the outskirts of the village and that's when he saw you. You were hanging laundry. You'd lost the look of the noble lady you had been, but you were still so beautiful.

                "Y/N," he called, his voice carrying over the wind to you. You turned to him with a smile that rivaled the sun. "Sandor!" You ran and threw your arms around him. Not another word was spoken as Sandor pressed his lips to yours again for the first time in so many moons. He didn't know how long he would have with you before one or both of you died. One thing he did know was that he was never letting you go again.


	31. The Bear, the Hound, and the Lady Fair (Jorah Mormont & Sandor Clegane)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader loves both Jorah and Sandor and they both love her. But things never work out the way people want.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst and fluff.

They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder and that everyone sees beauty differently. That is, except for Sandor and Jorah. When both men laid eyes on you, they thought you were one of the most beautiful women they had ever seen. And then, they got to know you and saw that you weren't just beautiful on the outside, but on the inside as well. They both fell for you unexpectedly. And they fell hard.

            For Jorah, it was your sweetness. You had compassion for those around you. You never had a second thought when it came to helping others. Jorah found that to be an admirable trait. He adored that side of you. It made you even more beautiful to him. He wanted to be with you always. But then again, so did his competition.

            For Sandor, it was your strength that drew him to you. Not only were you physically strong; you could hold your own in a fight, but you also had strong beliefs and morals. You never backed down and you fought for what you thought was right.  You also never hesitated to tell Sandor when he was wrong. But you did it in a way that Sandor could accept it. You never called him a monster or insulted him. You spoke to him like a human being. But Sandor knew he had no chance with you. Not when he looked the way he did and not when Jorah was right there also.

            "Good morning, gentlemen," you greeted in a chipper tone when you walked out into the freezing cold air of the courtyard. Jorah returned your greeting with a smile. Sandor nodded his head at you, but the message was clear. You had learned how to translate Sandor's language. Or lack thereof. He didn't speak often, but his eyes always said what he didn't.

            You weren't stupid or blind. You knew both men had feelings for you. You could see it in the way they looked at you. You could hear it in their words, even the few that Sandor did say to you. They both tried to hide it from you. After all, you were preparing for war against the Army of the Night King. Not exactly the best time for affairs of the heart. Nevertheless, you saw through them both. You were just waiting for one of them to say something. And one of them did that very morning.

            You had gone to the stables to brush out your horse. You spent time doing it every day. It calmed you and the animal. As you were brushing out the horse's mane, a shadow appeared from behind you. You didn't even have to look up to know who it was. "Can I help you?" you asked sweetly, not turning around.

            "He loves you. You know that, don't you?" You laughed lightly before finally looking at the man behind you. "I know he does. I know you do as well." Jorah refused to meet your gaze. You reached over a gloved hand to cup his slightly stubbly cheek. "I won't ask you to choose, my lady. I couldn't break your heart that way." You gave him a small smile.

            "And I don't want to break yours, Jorah. Nor do I want to break Sandor's. You are both great men. Men who deserve all the love in the world. I only wish I could be with you both. Then I wouldn't have to hurt either one of you." Jorah let his eyes wander up to your face. He looked confused. "I love you both, Jorah. Choosing between you is going to hurt. I know you said you wouldn't make me, but I have to. If I don't, you both get hurt in the end. But how do I choose between the two men I love most in the world?"

            "Who says ya have ta?" You and Jorah both jumped at the sound of Sandor's gruff voice. You glanced over Jorah's shoulder with a look of confusion. "What?" Sandor fully stepped into the stables. "Who says ya have ta choose?" You smiled up at him. It didn't take you long to catch his drift. "Sandor, what would people say?"

            "Who cares? You're not married. Ya have a choice not to make a choice." You never expected something so smart to come out of Sandor's mouth. It was true. You weren't married. And there was nothing in the law that said you couldn't have two lovers. No one really even needed to know.

            "Only if you both agree. I won't have you competing against one another for me." Sandor nodded. "Any other woman would choose the knight, even disgraced, over me. I'm a lucky bastard that you're even considerin' it." You walked over to him and hugged him close. "Thank you," you muttered, "I love you, Sandor." He didn't say anything, but his face turned red to the tips of his ears.

            You looked back to Jorah. "Jorah?" Jorah eyes bounced between you and Sandor sadly. "I can't, Y/N. I love you. I will always love you, but I cannot share you with another man." Your smile fell and so did your heart. "Jorah..." He smiled a little. "It's alright. If you're happy with him, then I'm happy. I wish you both all the best." Before you could argue, Jorah maneuvered around you and Sandor and left the stables.

            You felt the tears rolling down your face as you watched him walk away. "Go after him." You shook your head. "He made his choice and mine." You turned to Sandor. "Can ya be happy with me? Just me?" You grinned through your tears. "I already am, Sandor." You hugged him again, willing your tears for Jorah to stop. The bear had chosen his path, leaving the hound and the lady fair to live happily together for the rest of their days.


End file.
